


Marvelous Pest Control

by muchstuff



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Warhammer - All Media Types, Warhammer 40.000, Warhammer 40k (Novels) - Various Authors, X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Crossover, End of the World, Gen, Marvel Universe, SHIELD, Survival, War, X-Men Inspired, warhammer 40
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24675250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muchstuff/pseuds/muchstuff
Summary: Six months after the attack on New York by Loki and his forces, the world begins to understand that more than Chitauri came through the wormhole. Hidden in the shadows of the world, they wait and fester. Through the eyes of Private Neil Cacot, the Avengers embark on a desperate mission to save our civilization and all those that follow.
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Venezuela - Sierra Imataca Nature Preserve, South America**

Private Neil Cacot gripped onto the cargo netting for dear life. Inside Shield's twin-engine transport, his fingers bled from the tremendous G forces acting upon them. Roaring wind swept in from the hole near the aft ramp, melted shrapnel still oozing and hissing along the interior bay. Just before the world went black, Neil heard a call for help go out from the cockpit, an emergency mayday from Hawkeye to the Helicarrier a thousand miles away. A loud snap of a tree branch smacked against the hull, then nothing. Blackness

The first sense to return seemed to be hearing.  _ Why is there a radio in my bedroom? Why are there people in my apartment? _

_ Why does my bed feel so… _

_ My bed? _

_ Wait. _

Like an old projector which took a few tries to flicker on, Neil's eyes opened and reality came rushing back.  _ Trees?  _ Greens so green he swore they looked fake, swaying gently in the forest canopy high above. Laying on his back on the forest floor, his right hip felt like a truck rammed into it at full speed.

"Private Cacot, how are you feeling?" Soft and throaty, Black Widow's voice soothed even the most disturbed, incensed, or injured. Not far away, she sat on the ground with pieces of tactical equipment scattered around in a semi-circle. Dressed in her standard black uniform, she looked ragged compared to the image the press often portrayed. Her red hair lay in a mess, unevenly spread along her shoulders,

"I'm ok, side feels a bit hurt…" Neil trailed off, realizing that even responding to her seemed pointless.  _ Black Widow asking how I am? Unbelievable...but who cares? I'm nobody. _

In a recruitment initiative after the attack upon New York six months ago, Neil submitted his application into the job pool; being a part time National Guardsmen no longer seemed adequate. The sight of aliens coming to Earth and the Avengers beating them back energized and ignited the patriotism in most military and civilian units.  _ Seems like a long time ago, but in reality, just a few months. And now… on my first assignment… we've crashed… _ Neil spun his head around looking at their current situation. Somewhere not far off, the wreckage of the transport aircraft smoldered, a sense slow to return, he now smelled the fire, the burning material a few hundred feet away.

Tutono, another Private assigned to the unit shifted closer, his black helmet cracked from the severe impact.

"Yo Cacot. Sergeants dead man. Just you, myself," Tutono glanced around, keeping his voice low enough for just their ears. "... Ryan is dead. Omar is dead. Just you, me, Black Widow and Hawkeye…. Maybe Ziszue, but, it ain't good. He's still in the wreckage, trapped man. Hawkeye been tryin’ to get him while you were sleeping, I was there helping. I dunno if he's gonna make it."

Past Tutono, Black Widow glanced up at both of them before returning to her itemizing of rations, supplies, and equipment he didn't immediately recognize.

"Fuck me. What happened? I remember we got hit, that's it."

Tutono shrugged his shoulders before rising to his knees, pressing hard on a thigh and struggling to stand.

"We did get hit." Came Black Widow's reply, dry, not bothering to look up at either of the two men. "We were about five kilometers from the L.Z., close to the Curiapo village. We ended up overflying it and now we are here, inland in the Nature Preserve."

Originally consisted of one Sergeant, a corporal, and four privates. The SHIELD team received orders by Nick Fury to assist the two Avengers in their investigation. Being a lowly Private bestowed no authority to ask what precisely the mission objectives were, only to obey and load into the transport.

"Excuse me...uh… Black-"

"Romanov will do." Head down, tinkering with a machine the size of a football. "You probably want to know what is going on."

From the direction of the smoldering twin-jet, Hawkeye's feet flattened some deadfall before coming into full view through the foliage.

"He's gone…dammit," tossing his First Aid kit to the ground. "Radio is out, but I'm pretty sure our mayday got through before we hit the ground." Dirt, blood, and bruises covered the right side of his cheek, but his posture gave Neil hope that the injuries were only skin-deep. "How's it going with the bio-scanner?"

"We need Tony to look at this, it's busted pretty bad."  _ Bio-scanner? What are they looking for?  _ Tutono glanced over to Neil with a concerned look.  _ Ya, I'm thinking that too buddy. What are we doing here?  _ Romanov tossed the black circular device a few feet, cursing it more than once. "We can't use it, but we can head to Curiapo. The Venezuelan military says they engaged some targets just before we left. I think we need to bury the bodies, and get going."

**One Hour Later**

Walking along the jungle floor at the northern tip of the world's most lush rainforest wasn't the same as taking a stroll through a rural pathway cleared by a municipal forestry service. Instead of a path used by cross-country skiers in the winter and dog walkers in the summer, here, no trail existed. In all directions, trees whose roots seemed to climb the very trunks that bread them, twisted and turned skyward, disappearing into the canopy a hundred feet above. No visible track kept the direction steady, often presenting near impossible blockages or ankle-breaking holes.

Neil didn't know quite how far they managed to travel, but he didn't mind the view one bit. When not cranking his neck trying to locate a strange animal call, he kept pace with Romanov. That big butt shifting from side to side just ahead.

_ Those pants have never been happier. I wonder if she has a man? A woman?  _ He couldn't help but laugh, keeping the small chuckle under his breath, the self-deprecating joke known only to him.  _ Crash-landed in South America, hiking through some real thick shit… and all I can think about is smashing this woman from sundown to sunrise. A woman who would never look at me once, let alone twice. Get a grip idiot. Get a grip.  _ Ahead of her, Clint kept the pace steady, using his bow to break some thin branches for the rest. Tutono brought up the rear, keeping quiet except for the occasional observation about some strange tree or animal.

"Did you hear that?" Clint raised his hand to gesture an all-stop. He turned back and kept his finger pressed to his lips. Birds, leaves, wind…  _ what else am I supposed to- _

_ Gunfire. That's gunfire. Fully automatic. _

Everyone exchanged a look, starting at the front and finishing at the back. Magazines were re-checked and slapped back in, knives pulled and sheathed, and grenades inspected.

"A few miles at most, maybe less in this crap," Clint pointed at the foliage wall ahead. "It's hard to tell how far a gunshot can travel in this, let's keep going." Romanov nodded and then turned back to Neil,

"Listen carefully, I'm going to talk low but you should know what we are doing." Neil listened intently for the next ten minutes as the broken squad moved forward. "When the Chitauri attacked New York, it took us all by surprise. The cops, military, Avengers, everyone. Those huge flying whales with armor came through, the alien soldiers came through. And… what we thought were Chitauri animals came through. Giant slugs with legs, two feet long." She held up her hands to show the size, "...Tony figured they were the offspring or parasites from the flying whales. Sort of looked similar, except with legs and a much bigger mouth. Think of a piranha on land. We found them near the harbor, in this bus-sized… sack. A few more were dead inside, and another one, bigger, like the Hulk but with strange arms and legs. It was dead too, the giant sack hit the side of a building on the way down.”

Gunfire rattled through the underbrush, still distant but at a much slower pace. A few dull booms followed the shooting, then a few more, and then nothing. Somewhere the sun lowered into the sky, causing shadows to stretch longer along the ground. Neil hoped they would reach the target before nightfall, his infrared goggles destroyed in the burnt-out husk of the twin-jet.

"...anyway. So that's what we thought. Just part of the act you know? But soon we started having problems. People reported mutated-crocodiles in the sewers. Ground crew missing at job sites… Strange stuff. Turns out, that sack wasn't carrying Chitauri war animals, but other things. Tony ran tests, lots of them. We don’t think these things are part of Loki’s army.”

A small chill crept from the bottom of Neil's neck, down his shoulders and into his arms.  _ What in god's name came down?  _ A shadow danced a second too long, blood pressure spiked, his head turning a little more than a minute ago.

"...Tony checked all the cameras and satellite images. We then figured it out. A portal within a portal. As those Chitauri were coming through, there was a massive electrical storm, and a single thing… a pod came through. We think Thor's lightning hit it, causing it to collide with a building. It rolled and finally stopped on Pier 3. By the time we got there, we don't know how many escaped. But… the pod was alive. Like a living creature. Weirdest thing I've ever seen." Natasha turned her head to emphasize the next point. "We tried to find everything that slithered and crawled but we missed some. We have been looking for them. We've only found a few, Cap killed one in Pittsburg last week, we think it swam. Some of them had wings, and a cop down near the pier said he saw one flopping like a fish until it fell into the East River. We never found it. This place we are going, this village reported some strange creatures in the surrounding jungle. Taking locals and some visitors." She pointed ahead while walking, the gunshots fading to no more than a few cracks a minute. "... we've been listening to this for over an hour. Notice how there is less and less? Either the Venezuelan army is winning, or there is no one else left to pull the triggers."

_ Fuck me. Holy Jesus. And we are here? Looking for these things!? _

Romanov read Neil's face even in the low light and took an extra few seconds to try and relieve his fears.

"Clint says our emergency signal got out, and these trackers," pointing to her wrist, "should let Cap and Tony find us. Just keep an eye out, ok?"

Neil nodded without saying a word, his eyes shifting left, right, up, anywhere and everywhere for movement.

"So… these … aliens? We are looking for them? That's what the bio-scanner was for?"

"Exactly, it helps us locate them, sort of. It's not perfect. You have to get pretty close, and ya, aliens. But Tony decided on a name for them. Sylvester Tyranis was the New York sewer worker who spotted a crocodile-thing before he went missing. So we call them Tyranids.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Venezuela - Sierra Imataca Nature Preserve, South America**

"Well… anyone got any ideas?" Mused Clint as the four lay on their stomachs just inside the protection of the tree line. Ahead no more than a few hundred feet, the final twinklings of the pink sun danced along the black river. Nearly 600 yards across at the narrowest point, it resembled a tar pit waiting to swallow them whole.

Overhead, two jets roared past with a high-pitched rumble, delivering their ordinance of air-to-surface missiles into the burning village. Fire, a hundred feet high, ate all combustible materials. Like a living, breathing, thinking organism, it leaped from shelter to shelter, tree to tree. With sound traveling quite far over still water, screams of soldiers and villagers came to the four in perfect clarity, interrupted by massive booms from helicopters and jets circling overhead.

"Anything good?" Natasha didn't immediately answer her friend, preoccupied by the carnage in her binoculars.

"It looks like the soldiers are lost, just running around, firing into the forest. The jets are hitting beyond the village, it's hard to tell. Looks like they are fighting a lot more than just a few slugs with legs. It's hard to make out."

A repulsor thrust drowned out Nat's whisper. The group turned around to witness Ironman lowering himself through the canopy, the air pressure from the deceleration sending a concussive blast in all directions. The suit landed and the visor snapped open,

"Mind if I take a look?" Tony waded through the undergrowth before stopping beside Romanov. "I'll save you the trouble. The army over there," servos swirling as his arm lifted to point across the water, "is fighting what we found in New York. Somehow they made their way this far south and were spotted by villagers."

Clint stood up and wiped away some dirt in the low light,

"Ya… we kinda knew that already. What took you so damn long? We've been hoofing it through that crap all night." Clint stretched his back, relieved that some backup finally arrived. "Something tells me that they are multiplying, all those things couldn't fit in that… thing. That big spore?" Clint paused, searching for words, "... the big sack that was alive. We couldn't have missed more than a few. Not… a thousand."

Listening, but not looking, Tony kept his eyes across the river, the raging fire reflecting off his eyes like glass.

"You are right about that, we need to nip this in the bud. Cap is already over there. Grab on, I'll bring you guys over." Both Avengers clambered onto Tony's back, careful to keep their feet from his repulsor engines.

In a last-second decision, Romanov passed the binoculars to Neil with a soft smile, "In case you get bored, Private."

Neil Cacot stood dumbfounded,  _ am I staying here? Are we not going?  _ Tutono, who practiced less reserve than his squadmate stepped forward to protest,

"Excuse me, with all due respect Mr. Stark. Should we not be coming along?" Tony, without looking, snapped the Ironman visor down with a clunk, the mechanical voice altered and cold.

"Stay low, stay alive. Enough people have died." All the Privates could do is watch as the billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, lifted his two piers off the ground and repulsor blasted over the water to the opposite bank.

"Well… this sucks." Tutono took a moment to really show his displeasure, sending a massive hork ten feet to the front. Neil glanced over, even in the low light disappearing over the treetops, he could see Tutono boiling under the collar.

"You could always swim…"

"Fuck that. I can't swim 600 yards with a rifle and gear. I'd have to go naked." The joke brought on a fit of laughter, infectious in the strangeness of their situation. Crash-landing in the middle of a jungle, hiking along through bugs, bush, and finally, left on a beach by the Avengers.

Using Nat's binoculars, and Tutono using the scope atop his rifle, they struggled to ascertain which way the battle leaned. Fire raged everywhere, huts, houses, trees, even the dock heading out into the water smoldered. People were screaming, and every so often, the Private's stomachs would knot and adrenaline spike as they caught sight of something not human.

"Fuck me. Did you see that? Thing looked like it's gun attached right into its arm or something…" Neil didn't answer, too preoccupied with Ironman's attack. For the last ten seconds, he had been floating above the fire and trees, sending down beams of energy into the undergrowth. But as Neil looked, what he first believed were figments of his imagination, turned out to be real. Small pops and splashes of green erupted in the air around the armor, and now,

"Toot," his nickname for Tutono, "I think Ironman is going down, his leg repulsors are sparking."

In the distance, Ironman wobbled in the air, his arms trying to counteract the fluctuating power in his feet thrusters. More splatter burst around his head before all propulsion units cut out and he disappeared behind several one-story houses with burning roofs. Above, the high-pitched whine of twin-engine transports gave away their positions before they came into view. Over fifteen of them came in fast with landing gear down and doors open. In a puff of sand and smoke looking to swallow the craft whole, SHIELD reinforcements rushed out the back,

"Well at least… HOLY-"

Tutono didn't finish his expletive. Both men froze, their mouths hung open, eyes locked upon the  **_thing_ ** crawling towards them, emerging from the water just ahead. Maybe humanoid, but in the lowlight who could really tell. It crawled, appearing injured and mutilated in combat. Slowly, Neil lowered the binoculars and moved both his hands to his rifle.  _ Easy… easy… maybe it can't see us. What the living fuck is that… what are you? _

An extra massive explosion detonated a few hundred feet above the trees across the lake, an airburst-munition designed to inflict as much damage as possible. The resulting flash of superheated air transformed the early night into midday.

Tutono let loose a scream, the hideous creature by the shoreline far worse than their imaginations dared conceive. Larger than a man, its elongated head covered in leathery armor, culminating in a snout with teeth as jagged and sharp as steak knives. One of its arms appeared blown off along with both legs. It hissed and gurgled, raising its remaining arm in their direction.  _ That's not an arm, that's a gun! _

Repetition of training kicked in, both men raised their rifles and leaned into each shot. Pulling on the trigger, the 3-round bursts bounced and dinged off carapace armor and thickly scales. Neil and Tutono pulled rapidly, the bursts coming so fast the guns may as well have been set on full automatic. As Neil fired and fired, he walked to his right, trying to find another angle. With a roar, the creature showed its foot-long tongue and endless rows of teeth, and then a strange noise. A hiss. Something burst in front of Tutono's face, just as the alien collapsed lifeless, the 60, 5.56mm rounds finding enough soft tissue to finish it off. Neil turned to Tutono,

"Toot, you ok? Did it hit you?"

"Ya fine, didn't hit-" Tutono let out the most blood-curdling scream Neil had ever heard. The Private reached down and began frantically clawing at his vest, so violent that he broke his fingers on the buckles, "Oh my god! Oh my god!"

Neil threw his gun to the ground and rushed over, ripping off Toot's Kevlar just in time to notice the tail end of  **_something_ ** disappearing through small holes in the uniform. Tutono fell to his back, shaking violently, pulling at his ears and face.

"Toot! Toot! What is going on?" A brown worm came right out of the eyeball before coiling into the nostril and disappearing again. Neil jumped off his knees and grabbed his gun. His squadmate lay motionless now, only the skin on his hands and face moved as something swam and slithered in the soft tissue. 

_ What the hell!? Worms are in him? Did… _ he glanced over at the dead creature near the water, his head snapping back to the private,  _...did it shoot… worms at him? _

Left.

Right.

Left again.

Right again.

Back.

Forward.

Delirious, Neil's head whirled in all directions.  _ The Tyranids shoot boring worms! Oh my god. They could be everywhere.  _ Unsteady and unclear, Neil Cacot stalked the beach, his rifle reloaded, ready at the front. He was so focused and suffering from tunnel vision that he didn't notice the twin-jet land until dirt and bits of rock peppered him.

"Private Cacot!" SHIELD's Agent Maria Hill swung her head out the ramp, "Get in here, where is Private Tutono?"

Neil booked it, his boots digging into the soft sand with every panic stricken step.

"Dead, he didn't make it. Those-... Those things, they shot shit at him."

She banged the close button with her fist and stalked up the ramp, muttering to herself and directing the pilot to head back to Curiapo village. Not more than a minute later, the ramp lowered on the opposite side of the water, the smell of burnt flesh and wood overpowering and revolting. Hardly any natural light came out of the sky now, just shadows dancing along the ground from flickering fire. Hill directed Oliver to follow, but to keep an eye out due to Tyranid tenacity. Nearer the burning buildings, what Neil thought were logs and benches turned out to be bodies. Creatures with anatomy that shouldn’t be, laid strewn across the battlescape. And that smell.  _ Burnt flesh, mixed with… a wet dog? Disgusting.  _ Through grass, foliage, and destroyed houses, Niel followed Maria Hill until they reached a clearing. Floodlights shone from various positions down onto a hut, no more than 10x10 and dilapidated by concussion impacts. Standing around the hut in a large circle, two-dozen SHIELD agents,  _ but no Venezuelan military… where the hell are they? All dead? I didn't see too many human bodies. _ The small shelter stood three feet above ground on wooden stilts, ideal for keeping above floodwaters in the spring months. Captain America stood beside the wall, pulling carefully before the whole structure collapsed sideways. As the shanty fell over and the debris cleared, everyone stood back with guns drawn.

A hole, no more than three or four feet in diameter.

Steve Rogers took a few cautious steps, his shield held firm and eyeballs peeking around the Vibranium edge to peer into the darkness.

"Looks like intel was right. These things came out of the ground. Tony searched the area-" he glanced over at Tony who was not in his armor; instead, he stood in regular clothing with his power source glowing through his AC/DC t-shirt.

"Scanned twice actually,"

"...Tony searched the area, and this is the only entrance we found… well, he can tell you. Tony."

"Right. My satellite can only scan so deep, ground-penetrating radar has limits. So far, we know this thing goes down about a mile. At about a mile it splinters like an ant colony, some tunnels going out parallel to the ground, and a whole lot going even deeper. I can't scan the bottom. Jarvis, how many miles of tunnel would you estimate?" Stark held a button on his ear, a connection to his loyal servant.

Through the small speaker the always polite A.I. responded immediately.

"From low orbit, Cyclopes-2 scanned 17 miles of tunnel, but more undoubtedly exist. But I feel I should warn you sir, the scans indicate movement within the tunnels, possibly Tyranids."

_ Holy hell, these things are down there? Is that where they went? _

"And people…" interrupted Cap. "They dragged the living and dead down there, remember? Our people are down there." The statement created an epiphany for Neil,  _ someone is missing, _ he thought the group looked odd.  _ Cap, Tony, Romanov- _

_ Romanov. She's just sitting on the ground.  _ Without making it obvious, Cacot glanced a few seconds longer than normal, zeroing in on her face. _ Those are tears. God. Did the… Nids get Hawkeye? Is that who Cap is talking about?  _ Sure enough, Clint was nowhere in the circle of light.

Natasha wiped her face and climbed to her feet, sniffling the last remnant of weakness before heading for the hole. Cap sprinted forward and blocked her path, she tried to push past but he grabbed her bicep with a firm hand.

"Nat, if you are going down into hell, then we are all going down with you. And if we do it right, it will work. Give me ten minutes." With a hard yank, she broke free,

"I saw them drag him down alive. I’m going in one minute."

Cap nodded before closing the distance with Tony, his voice low, nearly a whisper. Neil shifted his eyes to the right, concentrating all his mental energy to try and listen from ten feet away.

"-acid? How bad Tony?"

"-Bad, it ate through my- very corrosive-can't see this ending well-... maybe get Banner and Thor?… that tunnel is an 80 degree downslope and only three feet wide- tight fit- single file..."

"Bruce is in Belgium helping them with a- Thor off world- she's going down after Clint, you know it. I know it. -17 miles, need- be better. Everyone is going to have to go down..."

_ Oh Jesus Christ, please God, I don't want to go down into that pit… _

"-This is why we shouldn't go Steve...-can't find hi- labyrinth- too deep to track bracelet.”

"We can't just leave him Tony..."

"He's already dead!" Tony's hiss may as well have been a scream. The circle of soldiers stiffened and nervous eyes sought out others for comfort.

Rogers took a deep breath and looked around the circle of men and women, then over to the charred remains of the invaders from afar.

"I know you are all scared, but we have to go down. It's what separates us from them," pointing to the creatures not far off. "...they would leave men behind. But we won’t."

Boiling with frustrating, Stark huffed out some hot air and stepped a foot closer to his colleague, dropping his whisper to an even lower level to ensure Romanov could not hear,

"Steve… he's dead… they are all dead." Both men stared at one another, eye to eye, neither blinking or waivering in their conviction.

Out of patience and stricken with fear for Clint’s safety, Natasha Romanov turned to the two men and said one word before sliding down into the hole and disappearing into the darkness.

"Times up."


	3. Chapter 3

**Venezuela - Sierra Imataca Nature Preserve, South America**

"Nat!" Rogers bolted for the hole, dropping to his knees and sticking his head past the black threshold into the bottomless abyss. Stark also rushed over, screaming into his earpiece for Jarvis to send real time updates from the satellite’s ground penetrating radar.

_ Holy shit, she actually went, that's crazy. That's crazy!  _ Neil nervously rechecked his magazine for a fifth time, unable to shake the image of Toot's face being eaten from the inside. A million butterflies danced now, pushing a ball of anxiety up his throat to a point where it might erupt as puke.

Tony stood up and looked up at the sky, far above a shining object grew,

"That yours?" Asked Cap as he lowered himself feet first into the hole. At an 80 degree downslope, going headfirst would quickly push too much blood into the brain.

"Ya, Blackbird should also be showing up soon, Fury said he spoke to Professor Xavier this morning, but they were caught in Belgium with Banner, so I'm not sure who is coming."

Cap adjusted the shield, tilting, pulling, pushing; the hole being so small that his sole weapon seemed more a hindrance than asset. Finally he lifted it right in front of his face so his nose touched the rigid Vibranium, the curvature of the shield making it impossible to see what came from below. Another second and Rogers squeezed through the hole, looking at Stark just before disappearing.

"See you soon."

Maria Hill began shouting at different SHIELD agents, preparing them for the subterranean mission, what to do, how to think, how to react. But the truth was, no one could be certain. Down in the depths of darkness, where tunnels thinned and widened, one might become stuck, trapped, or lost. Neil couldn't shake the idea of crawling and squirming through a tight place just to get lodged and suffocate to death. Men and women lined up at the hole and lowered themselves in, holding the walls of dirt so they did not immediately slide endlessly to the bottom. Roots, rocks, and clumps of soil served as makeshift steps, preventing the squad from freefalling onto Captain America's head.

An armored suit roared inward, landing with a thud not too far away. Stark ran over and jumped in the back, the eyes and turbines coming to life as he checked the controls.

"What's your name kid?"

_ Me? Is he looking at me? _

"Uh. Neil Cacot…"

"Ok listen," he clanked over, stopping and opening the visor. "Neil. Listen to me. You stay put until the 'bird' gets here. Tell them what is going on and then join us. Got it?" Not bothering to wait for an answer, Tony turned to walk to the hole before stopping again and looking back at Cacot, "Be strong," his metal fingers making the  **I'm watching you** signal.

With much effort, Tony managed to squeeze himself down, using his repulsor rocket on one palm to fire upward. Then silence.

After the rushing of blood in his ears subsided, Neil listened to the dull humming of floodlights and incessant ticking and clicking of bugs and insects from all around. Only one other remained with him, a junior SHIELD agent who looked as though he witnessed an exorcism. They looked at one another, neither said a word. For a while, they listened to the muffled voices of Stark and Cap talking with Romanov, telling her to slow down so they could form a plan. But soon even they grew silent in the depths of the Earth.

_This is insane. Going down for one guy, fuck me._ _Even Stark said it… god. What a friggin disaster._ But then another emotion surfaced, guilt. Something in Neil's psyche made him feel awful for thinking that. A betrayal to his fellow man. _Dammit… what a clusterfuck._ Something touched the back of his neck and he jumped and spasmed, clawing with his fingers at something small and squishy along his collar.

"These fucking bugs! These goddamn bugs!"

Minutes seemed like hours in the middle of nowhere, the unknowable jungle holding secrets that Neil wished to never know.  _ I hate this place, I hate this mission… _ more guilt as each thought pressed against the foundation of his morality.  _ But they went down… I can't be a coward... _ a rumbling jet broke the eerie silence and unending anticipation. A giant transport in the shape of the old SR71 Blackbird. The engine wash blew over what remained of the huts and shelters, snuffing out flames before the landing gear hissed and buckled under stress.

The ramp lowered from the underbelly and before long, two figures walked down, a woman with bright red hair wearing a black leather tactical suit, the other, a ruffian wearing an old brown leather jacket, jeans, and a white shirt underneath. Jean Grey and Wolverine looked around once they reached the bottom of the ramp, conversing quietly as they approached the circle of light near the hole.

Wolverine stopped near Cacot, sniffing the air,

"Smells like shit."

Jean's eyes darted left and right, not looking at what lay before them, but elsewhere, her psychic eye scanning the ground and area. After a few seconds, she acknowledged Neil with a small smile,

"What's your name?" Not bothering to wait, she relied on her telepathy, verbal communication being too slow in a situation like this. "Neil. Ok, I see. Can you tell Logan what happened while I look around?" Her glassy eyes already gone from the immediate, searching through material and space for whatever she deemed important.

"Neil eh? Ok buddy, what happened here."

"Well, we flew-"

"We who?"

"SHIELD. We flew in with Hawkeye and Blackwid-"

"Who are they?"

Neil blinked.  _ Does he not know these people? _ Wolverine blinked back.  _ I better stick to basics. _

"The Venezuelan army fought these Tyranids," pointing to the alien bodies lying on the outskirts of light, "... and they lost. So Captain America-"

Wolverine's ears pricked and he couldn't contain a small smile,

"Stevie is here? Haven't seen him in 70 years." Wolverine pulled off his coat and let it hang loose in one of his hands. "He's a good man… ok what else?"

"Well, he and Ironman-"

"Stark is here?" Wolverine groaned, looking around and walking over to one of the dead Tyranid bodies. "What an asshole…" He squatted down beside it, sniffing, inspecting. "Let me guess, they jumped into the hole." Three claws came out of his knuckles and jabbed right into the Nid's skull with a snap. Bone split like a log, and Logan slowly stood up, pulling the alien along with him. Face to face, the disgusting creature's mouth hung open with teeth and tongue exposed. "Why did they go down there?"

"One of the Avengers was taken alive, pulled into the hole by the beasts."

After a long moment, he withdrew the claws and the creature fell to the ground with a thud. With renewed haste, he marched over to the hole and called over the other Private standing near the floodlight.

"Listen to me," angrily taking off his coat and pushing it into the guy’s stomach, "this is my favorite jacket, something happens to  **it** , something happens to you, got it?” The man said nothing, only nodding and backing off without saying a word. Wolverine grumbled a bit more, looking around for his fellow X-men. “I wasn't even supposed to be working, it's my day off…” Jean came back into the light, a Tyranid floating closeby via her telekinesis.

"Logan, these things are what the Professor and I are seeing in our dreams. We can hear their thoughts. I've shut my mind out, but I know if I open it, they'll be there."

Wolverine spit something out and put one foot onto the wall of the hole,

"Keep your mind closed Jean, let's go see what is going on. Ok kid,” pointing to Neil, ”you are behind me. Jean, you should take up the rear in case these tunnels start to splinter, and those things can double back on us."

Logan's claws snapped in and out, climbing down the tunnel feet first, Neil sat with his legs dangling into the air, positioning himself until he finally dropped in. Like a kid trying to climb between the doorframe in their parent's kitchen, he pressed his legs and hands into the tunnel wall. Not able to extend his arms more than a few inches, he felt the closeness of the dirt, the all familiar smell. Fresh and moist, like his mom's garden decades ago.  _ Except there were no Tyranids trying to eat me.  _ Each foot downward reminded him of feeling for the next step when hanging over a ledge as a kid. Foot dangling, getting nervous as it found nothing to support his weight.  _ Climbing blind, shooting blind, lovely.  _ Pebbles and dirt sprinkled from above, Jean's foot slipping off a root outcrop, sending a torrent of debris down Neil's kevlar vest.

How long they slid, slithered, and climbed, Neil did not know. Every so often, more outward force would be needed to steady himself as the tunnel slope became even more unbearable. Then, minutes later, he felt their position move along a lesser incline and he would relax, the weight moving to his back or front. The depth and darkness can not be understated. No light from the outside world snaked its way down to such curves and depth. Unable to even see the hand in front of his face, he closed his eyes as they offered no security. But fear kept growing, that eventually the tunnel would flatten and that the three would be trapped on their backs unable to continue. It would be easy if they were face forward, able to crawl and shuffle along on their stomachs. But if trapped feet first, they would have to inch backward,  _ or if the tunnel got tighter, could we be trapped with the rest of them?  _ Another issue he thought of before he even climbed into the hole, was the guns. Useless in such cramped quarters.  _ I can't reach my rifle, let alone point it anywhere. This is suicide. _

"I can hear them," whispered Jean, "I'm opening my mind just bits at a time. They are down there, and…" she trailed off. Logan stopped and Neil followed suit just before stepping on his head. "They hate us. They hate anything that isn't them…"

With some shuffling and grunting, Logan managed to snap open his lighter, his face flickering in the darkness below.

"Jean, can you tell how many there are?"

"No, it's not like that, it's a single hatred, it's um… it's not so simple."

Neil required no telepathy to sense Logan's frustration with the answers, too vague and aloof to fully understand. The lighter closed and once again, the Wolverine's snapping and shuffling guided them downward, that is, until Neil realized that Jean Grey did not follow.

"Excuse me. Mr. Logan?"

"Ya?"

"Your friend is not with us." Everything stopped.

"Jean?!" Shouted Logan from below. "Jean!?"

"I hate you! I'm going to rip your throat out!" Braced but not ready, a tremendous impact smacked Neil straight on the top of the head. The kick sent stars through every shade of black and white his mind could understand. Pain became light, searing into his brain and down into his body. Immediately hand and leg tension dropped to zero and he was in freefall. Colliding with Logan five feet below, the impact sent them down further until adamantium claws dug into the dirt to break their fall.

"What the fuck are you doing Private!?" The mutant's yell seemed more like a roar, like an animal ready to tear Neil's legs off. But that was lost to Neil, whose concussion sent his stomach reeling, even in the darkness he perceived the walls only 4 inches from his face were spinning. Out of his mouth like a toddler rejecting the latest lunch fad, vomit hurled straight into the dirt, gooping and blasting Logan with a half digested beef hotdog. Before Wolverine managed to unleash his claws and disembowel the Private, Jean came down and kicked Neil again, delivering a blow to the ear.

"I'm going to kill all of you!"

Logan fought back his desire to barf and screamed back at his soulmate, his crush, his everything.

"Jean block them out! Block them out!" Unable to reach her with Neil collapsed on his shoulders, Logan made the decision to create distance. He pulled in his claws and removed his boots from the wall. Like a slide, both Logan and Neil slid down the near-vertical drop. Dazed, with no reference point of speed or distance, Neil felt they fell for hours, he could not be sure.

"Hang on kid, hang on!"

Faster and faster, his head banging against the dirt and rock until they eventually collapsed into a pile at the bottom. Servos whirled around and a light shone onto the two men twisted at the bottom of the tunnel. Neil felt someone hoisting him up from the armpits, the hands were hard… like metal. Ironman stood above him, placing him on his feet in the small cavern far below ground.

"Logan?" Steve Rogers came over and offered his hand,

"Stevie." Logan accepted the gesture, then remembering why they were falling and pushed everyone back from the tunnel exit. "Back! Back! Something got inside Jean's head, she attacked the kid." Neil wobbled on his feet, touching the wall of the cramped cavern,  _ Where is my gun? Do I even have one?  _ The back of his head felt warm, like someone prepared him a nice bath. "Move!" Logan grabbed Cacot by the collar and tossed him backward and out of the way. Ironman raised both his arms, the weapon systems humming to life. Within the shallow cavern, ten flashlights shone at the mouth of the ceiling hole, rifles clicked and people scrambled into a better firing position.

"No!" Logan bolted and smacked down one of Ironman's arms. A struggle erupted between both men, shouting and screaming at one another. "Do not shoot her!"

"You just said something is in her head!" Screamed Ironman with his visor plate up. " **_I don't want my head to explode when she looks at me!_ ** "

Rogers jumped in and separated both parties, shoving and pushing them apart.

"Stop it! Logan, we are going to talk to her first, ok?" After getting a small nod from Wolverine, Steve glared over at Tony who depowered his repulsor blast. Bits of earth began to drop onto the ground, the sound of material sliding over dirt growing louder. No matter how many times Neil shook his head, his eyes would not focus, the light and noise combining into a torrent of colors and shapes.

With a thump, Jean hit the ground, exiting the tunnel at full speed. Logan rushed over, dropping down beside and holding her head in his lap.

"Jean!? Jean!?" Tony and Steve followed, bending down and trying to resuscitate the powerful psyker. "Jean come back to us, shut out your mind." Minutes past, people shuffled uneasily and the three talked among themselves, trying best to balance the needs of Hawkeye and missing soldiers with the rescue force. Mid debate, Black Widow appeared from another tunnel, reporting on what lay ahead.

"So another tunnel leads into another room, and then another. Like small compartments with tunnels connecting them. I found something…" she held up Clint's bow. Anyone paying half attention recognized Tony's struggle painted clearly across his face, festering logic and prudency wanting to call out the absurdity of the mission. "I found it in the next room a hundred feet up… but then there are ten different tunnels branching out. I don't know where to go…" Rogers came over and put his hands on her shoulders,

"Nat, we keep going until you give us the word. Do you understand?" The subtle hint that the mission may end before they found Clint not going unnoticed by the group. Gently he took the bow and tossed it over to Wolverine. "Logan, this is who we are trying to find, as well as anyone else still alive."

With a sniff, Wolverine picked up the scent and walked past Black Widow without saying a word. Some lowly Agent offered her flashlight and Logan disappeared into the darkness. After more than a few long minutes, he returned and tossed the young woman her light back.

"I know where to go...I can try and direct you from here, I need to stay with Jean."

Rogers came up to him, their comradery during WWII helping ease the delicate situation.

"I got her Logan, I'll carry her with us in the rear. Just lead the way."

So it was settled, Logan taking the front with claws extended and ready, the rest following him in a single file. Neil found himself somewhere in the middle, bouncing into someone's back and then being pushed by someone's chest, his concussion creating blotches of darkness in his vision despite all the flashlights.  _ At least we have room in this section to stand. I guess that tunnel going to the surface was kept small for a reason? But we are still sitting ducks in this environment. With such limited maneuverability, we can only fire in single file. _

After hours of walking undoubtedly deeper, Ironman halted their advance in an elaborate den. All the walls showed tunnels running up and down, a nexus, or junction point where other areas converged.

"Listen. From this point on, something can double back on us ok? So you in the rear, keep an eye out. By my estimates we are over two miles underground. So that's why it's getting so damn hot."

Walking, ducking, crawling, climbing, sliding.

Further and further, onward and onward. More clothing, helmets, and weapons scattered along the ground from the dead or living who were hauled to the depths of the hive labyrinth.  _ Venezuela and SHIELD stuff, but no bodies, _

"Stop… Jean is coming around…" From behind, Captain American placed the X-Men onto the ground, letting her head down gently. Jean murmured before springing up onto her feet. Rogers sprang up as well and covered her mouth before the scream woke the dead.

Logan couldn't make his way back through the team clogging the tunnel, forcing the two to converse at a distance, trying to figure out what happened and why.

"They came to me, inside my mind. Or maybe I was in too deep. But they want to eat this world. To spread, eat, and kill. I also sense confusion, that when they landed it was not the world they thought. They aren't supposed to be here. Their minds are old, ancient, but their bodies are new. I can't explain… there is also something dreaming, not yet awake."

In the next cavern, the line adjusted, and now Jean and Rogers walked up at the front with Logan, Ironman, and Natasha.

More hours, more walking,

Finally, when the desire for water could no longer be satisfied with licking the sweat off their arms, Logan shushed everyone for quiet. Flashlights were switched off and those with infrared goggles were ushered forward through the widening passage. Neil felt people moving around him, shuffling and whispering, but without a set of his own, he could only guess at what occurred in the complete darkness.

"Everyone share your goggles, everyone needs to see this," whispered Rogers through the line. Neil felt someone hand him a pair and he pulled them over his head. The greys merged with greys, not imaging the tunnel walls accurately. With a careless step, you could walk straight into a rock.

Up ahead he perceived that the tunnel widened significantly, and there was a lip, like a small hill where people were crawling up to. As he approached, he flattened to his stomach and moved up the slope until he reached the ledge. Peering over, he looked down upon a massive cavern. A thousand feet wide and hundreds high. Heat objects appeared white, moving and roving around the floor.  _ Holy shit there are thousands… and… all different types.  _ Strange clinks and growls, groans and shrieks came from the sea of moving aliens. Zooming in with a push of a button, he noted that these creatures were carrying human bodies, their white glow faint from the absence of life.  _ Those are people, dead soldiers and agents… they are tossing them into a pool? _ Far below, the Nids pulled, dragged, and carried dead or dying soldiers into a giant lake, a massive bubbling and frothing pool in the cavern's center. He saw someone struggling, his leg ripped off and arm bent in a certain way that would make anyone sick. He screamed as he fell headfirst into the pool. At first he floundered, but in the infrared spectrum, the heat from his body began to bleed into the rest of the liquid,  _ Jesus Christ, he's melting or… falling apart in there.  _ The giant pool of liquid stretched two or three hundred feet from end to end, and fifty wide.  _ Is something floating? Or perhaps lying half-submerged in the center. That thing is massive. Holy shit. Is it… alive? Is that a giant alien? Looks like a gigantic… Komodo Dragon with a horn sticking out it's back? _

In the low-resolution image of Neil's infrared goggles, the creature lay still in the liquid pool. Not yet fully formed or awake, it grew slowly, inch by inch, day by day. Behind, Neil could hear Jean describing more what she felt and saw from her nightmare experience.

"These things," she whispered, "they come from far away. They were in a battle against others. But they came down to our planet instead. Tony… you mentioned to the Professor over the phone you thought they came from somewhere else, a portal within a portal, right?"

"Ya…"

"They were supposed to land on another world. Whatever came in that pod had orders to fulfill, they are fulfilling that command, set deep in their minds. Or… it's like it's in their DNA. Innate… unthinking and instinctive. It's hard to tell if there are any in charge, or what they are." Neil turned back and saw through his infrared headset that Jean held her hand out towards the large cavern, concentrating on whatever temporal powers she sought to employ. "A few escaped the pod. Swimming in water. I guess in the ocean? They found this place by chance. And they dug, as they were supposed to dig. And grew. And hate… and kill… and hate and kill, and kill, and kill." Logan grabbed her arm and shook her hard.

"Jean. Stop. Close your mind," she shut her eyes and calmed herself, slowly breathing in and out. In and out.

Cap rubbed his eyes, trying to formulate a plan. A strategy.

"Tony, can you get a nuke down there? If we head back to the surface and call Fury, can we get a 5 megaton nuke down this far?"

Amidst the whispers of planning, Nat crawled up the embankment to the lip, laying right beside Neil and overlooking the gorge of creature and mystery. Without goggles, she lay, eyes closed and chin resting on her interlocked fingers. Immediately Neil knew that Romanov needed to say her goodbyes and felt incredibly awkward just laying so close.  _ If I slide back down, she'll know I feel out of place... If I stay… it feels weird. Oh my god, what the fuck am I saying? Idiot. This isn't about you. _

"Goodbye Clint…" the last in a string of whispers. Crawling back down, she felt her away around in the darkness until her hand touched metal. "Tony. Thanks for coming…" No witty remark, no joke or jab in reply. Just somber silence in the darkness.

Rogers came up beside Neil with his own set of goggles and began to press his controls to zoom in and out. More to himself than the private, he categorized what he thought he understood about the giant cavern.

"Looks… like those bodies are just floating in the goop, slowly breaking down, sort of like stomach acid?" He scanned right and then left, continuing his narration, "they got tree branches and bushes down there. I think I see fish being thrown into that pool of liquid as well." Starting from the furthest right to the most distant left, Neil watched the Captain scan the entire floor, then further left to the wall, up and up. He paused. "Some are climbing on the wall-" He flipped onto his back and looked straight up, the ceiling hundreds of feet higher than their current location.

" **INCOMING!"**

Neil twisted his neck upward, and sure enough, the wall looked to be alive with a thousand creatures, descending on them like spiders along a web. Breaking the silence maintained until this point, the Tyranids roared and hissed, unlatching their claws and falling like rain right onto the lip. The first to land felt the vibranium shield right to its chest, falling a hundred feet to the floor below. Another landed, scurrying past Neil and Cap into the group. Flashlights for those without infrared goggles snapped on and semi-automatic fire began cracking in the compressed space. Muzzle flashes highlighted the carnage in freeze-frame, with Cap and Wolverine slashing and banging away at whatever came pouring into the mouth of the embankment. Neil scrambled down and pulled the rifle off his shoulder and began firing. Something burst, a putrid sack of bile and pus splashed a small group of Agents.

**"Retreat! Back to the tunnel! Back to the tunnel!"**

Cap pushed everyone back, his shield held at the ready while Logan and Ironman took up positions on each side, forming a wall the best they could. Tony's auto-tracking multi-purpose missiles came out of his shoulder armor and fired. Of the six creatures clambering and crawling, only one dropped, the rest lost an arm or leg but kept coming. From above, Logan barely reacted in time as the ceiling of the tunnel collapsed inward and something black fell directly on top of him. The quick snaps of adamantium blades penetrating the skull and torso.

But it did not die. It clawed and roared, bit and scratched. Beneath the creature Logan began to feel something crawling, slithering over his skin. Now the slithering started to rip and tear, burrowing through muscle into his joints and abdomen. Cap gave it a good kick and then hauled Logan to his feet. The X-Men cursed and grunted, the grunts becoming screams of agony as something dug through and ate the flesh within.

"It's... It's inside me!"

"Come on!" Cap threw one of Wolverine's arms around his neck and hauled ass. More blasts came out of Ironman's repulsors with lasers crisscrossing the dark. Neil only ten feet from Logan tripped and fell backward, landing in the dirt with a thud. He rolled to look at what caught his legs, coming face to face with an Agent. Her eyes were still open with blood splattered across her pretty face. A spike as large as a carrot protruded right through the forehead.  _ Oh my god! Oh my god! _

Stepping over and sometimes on Neil, agents ran past in a mad panic. Bringing up the rear, both Avenger and X-Men fought for dear life. Neil struggled to his feet just as they approached, walking backward and calling out enemies he hoped Tony already saw. He slapped another magazine into his rifle but could take no shot, the walls were closing in again, and three abreast became two, and then one. Single file they back-peddled to safety, from wherever it was they were, to wherever it was they came. Within a minute, several SHIELD agents began to vomit and hurl bile and blood everywhere, the Tyranid toxin and bacteria salvos starting to do their work. Not every weapon and act of aggression brought quick death or destruction, but a painful and spreading dread. A strange feeling in the stomach. A quivering sensation just under the skin. Pain and terror came in all sizes and methods for the Nids.

"Where is Nat?! Where is Nat?" Tony sounded panicked, incensed at the thought of losing someone else.

"She's gone Tony, move!" Shouted Rogers with a hard shove to the armored suit. Stark tried to stop, but Steve grabbed him and yelled through the faceplate. "Tony, we need to go!"

Hanging off Captain America, Logan groaned and ached.

"Jean-... Jean… get this fucking thing out of me, I can feel it, I can…" he screamed again, his fingers ripping at his forehead down to the shiny metal. She paused and sent a blast of temporal and spiritual energy straight into Wolverine. He spasmed and jolted, blood splashing out of his mouth in a coughing fit.

Cap relaxed his grip for a moment and turned to raise his shield in defense when a two foot horn punched clean through his chest. Blood and bone smacked into the others as the venerable Captain screamed while being hoisted into the air. With tunnel walls so narrow, no one could actually see the creature behind, just its blind fury and hatred of mankind roaring and hissing in the black. Logan tried to pull his old friend off the serrated spikes but to no avail. Rogers spasmed and shook, managing a few words between gurgles of blood and air.

"Warn the world!" He gasped and screamed, his eyeballs rolling back into his skull, "we are better than them..." his body went limp and the creature tore and shredded the war hero in a manner of seconds.

"Steve!" Ironman took one step before being grabbed by both Jean and Logan,

"He's gone! Let's go!"

Pushing, shoving, running. The mad dash to safety and firing blind took more and more lives. Entertaining the small rooms along the way brought ambushes, agents melted under barrages of acid while some clawed at their faces to remove the borrowing worms and beetles.

Within six minutes, only 4 remained. Ironman. Jean. Logan. Neil.

"Where is Hill?! Hill?! Hill?! Dammit, form up, back to back," ordered Stark.

Neil let loose a barrage of fire into a multi-legged something crawling out of a hole not far away. His 5.56 bullets doing absolutely no damage, pinging and bouncing harmless away. Jean sent out a massive blast, the creature exploding from the inside out, the acidic bile hitting her telekinetic screen before melting Neil's face.

From the right

From the left

From above

From below

The Tyranids piled in and on. They crawled and walked, slithered and slunk. The four could no longer backtrack along the tunnel, blocked by swarming indescribable horrors of all shapes and sizes.

Logan dug his right claw into the face of a creature just as it reached them, followed by driving his left up from below and going through the jaw and skull. One second later, another jumped over the top and ripped at his face, taking his ear clean off, revealing his adamantium skull. Acid dripped and oozed from the dead beast still impaled, hissing and sizzling the X-Men's skin. It began melting through his cheek and neck, eating through flesh and tendon. And the stink, the smell of it all.

Jean turned to see her soulmate being eaten alive, pushing her past a point of mental anguish she thought not possible. Everything in an instant exploded into fire, vaporized in a titanic psychic blast. She swooped up the remaining three around her and blasted straight up and through the soil, carried in an impenetrable bubble of mental energy. They burst through the ground and up into the air, further and further. Neil felt no sensation of movement but for the dizzying heights they now held.

Tony frantic, screamed in his helmet, desperate and overwhelmed.

"Jarvis, send a transport for Banner right now. And find Thor, off-world, on-world, I don't give a shit! Also, tell Fury we have incoming and that I need a nuke." Stark took a deep breath, collecting his rambling thoughts for his most important message. "Jarvis… tell Pepper to pack her bags and head to my cottage, the cities won't be safe."


	4. Chapter 4

**SHIELD Helicarrier - 23,400 feet above the Gulf of Mexico - 7:12 a.m.**

**The Following Morning**

_ Are sick and dying not important enough for a tasty breakfast? _ The cardboard masquerading as 18-grain bread barely slid down Neil’s throat, needing the mouthful of lukewarm milk to coerce it further. Still on the tray, a small container of chocolate pudding wobbled and jiggled, looking straight at him like all desserts do. _ I'm saving you for last, this bread is tearing my throat up. Disgusting. Where's my Wonder bread? Would love some cheap bread with peanut butter right about now. _

While resting on a medical bed, Neil already counted how many lights were on the ceiling, or how many times the ship groaned and shrieked under atmospheric forces.  _ Twenty-eight divots around the doorframe, nurse Pilo has three kids and two ex-husbands, and Dr. Ralm smells like lilacs. _

Three out of four walls were metal, the bulkhead nearly encasing Medical but for the unbelievable floor to ceiling windows stretching the entire length of the room. Clouds floated past, unaware that a 120,000-ton aircraft carrier plunged through them.  _ It would be cool if you lived up here, flying around anywhere you wanted… do the Avengers stay on here long? _ The idea hit a nerve,  _ Cap, Blackwidow, and Hawkeye all dead. God damn. They beat back the Chitauri in New York. Cell videos of them going toe-to-toe, firing arrows and all sorts of things. And now, on one mission, half of them get wiped out. Either it's unbelievably bad luck, or these Tyranids are something else. _

T.V. offered another way to pass the time, the endless news cycles concentrating on a whole host of issues, a clever cover story for Venezuela being one of them. Glossed over as a small conflict between the government and rebels in a village no one cared about, people remained ignorant.  _ Tyranids are still a secret… by design? Or because they didn't appreciate the full scale of the problem until last night. _

President Donald Trump addressed an assembly of journalists in the Rose Garden.

"Believe me. We want to get the fishing back again. We all love fish don't we? I love fish." Looking at someone off-camera. "We need fish. We can't import everything from Japan or Europe. Due to the shortage around our coasts, I will be asking Congress to prepare a 15 billion dollar package to help the industry during this tough time. And I asked them, I said to the CEOs, where is the fish? This is crazy right? Where is the fish, no one knows where the fish are." A chorus of questions peppered the President before he pointed to a reporter and waited for it to be asked.

"Mr. President. The Center for Oceanic Research indicated that even two months ago there were shortages. What is the particular reason it has taken this long to get a bill written?"

"It hasn't taken long. It hasn't taken long, ok? We didn't go from lots of fish to no fish. They declined, understand? They declined. So now that there are no fish we are taking action. And we might take more action, we'll see. We'll just have to play it by ear."

_ Global warming? Too much pollution? _

Clanking boots along grates pushed the thoughts away, Dr. Ralm flanked by two guards came through the doorway and briskly walked over to Neil.

"Private Neil," began Ralm. "I am discharging you from my care. These two men will take you to the bridge." She nodded and left, leaving both guards to wait for Cacot to dress.  _ The bridge? What the hell do they want me on the bridge for? I'm Private nobody. _

Minutes later, Neil's eyes widened to the size of saucers as the doors slid open at the top of the lift.

_ Now this is a bridge. _

Expansive.

Informative,

Surreal.

More significant than anything Neil imagined, officers worked the stations and transcribed the vast pieces of information to actionable intelligence for Director Nick Fury. A bird's eye view is underwhelming compared to the window coverage ahead. The curvature of the planet from left to right made it seem so distant,  _ so fragile. _

"Drone footage coming in…" Stark stood beside one of the screens near the conference table at the rear of the bridge, his morning latte steaming through the sip hole. Jean Grey, Logan, Nick Fury, and a few other intelligence officers waited for the feed to go live. The guards escorting Neil gave him a little shove to proceed.

Fury noticed him first,

"Take a seat Private… you talk when we ask questions. That's the drill."

"Yes Sir."

Neil slid into one of the seats opposite Logan who glanced over with a nod of recognition, his face completely healed due to accelerated biology. Jean offered a strained smile before turning back to Tony who input a few commands into the keyboard. A second later, the screen came alive with a feed from far below. Footage from a drone descending into the forest canopy stretched over the ten-foot screen, the trees whisking past until a hole became visible. Lights flickered on, and a moment later dirt flashed past the screen,

"Rex is now in the hole we blasted out of..."

_ Oh god, let's hope that thing is armed... _

"Five hundred feet...seven hundred feet…" The camera appeared to be on the bottom of Tony's drone, showing the tunnel rushing up at the screen.

Both Logan and Jean flexed their fingers in anticipation, the stress and recent memory of the nightmare still too recent to simply brush away.  _ I shouldn't be nervous watching this. I shouldn't be nervous… it's just a feed… fuck me, I'm gonna puke. _

"Three thousand feet…" Flickers of interference and data cuts from the depths now froze the picture every few seconds, buffering and updating to try and keep the video smooth. "Four thousand feet…" Black on black rushed upward, the drone's lights revealing almost nothing as it dropped deeper into the hole. "Five thousand feet…"

_ Are the bodies of the ones we lost now part of that bio-lake? Fertilizer for these Tyranids? _

"Seven thousand…" Too fast to count, holes appeared along the walls of Jean's exit tunnel, indicative of the thousands of interconnected routes far below the surface.  _ Looks like hundreds of them… maybe thousands. _ "Eight thousand…transceiver signal is weak at this depth, can't do anything about it." Tony pressed his ear communicator, "Jarvis, set Rex to eject his locator beacon if it encounters resistance. I want to know it's location if we lose it."

"Aye sir…" came the polite English servant.

"Eleven thousan- Whoa. Something was on the wall, did you see that?"

"Was that one of them?" Asked Fury, sitting a little straighter.

"Yep...twelve thousand… radar indicating we are near the bottom."

On-screen, the speed of the wall rushing past slowed, allowing for individual tunnel holes to be counted. In a span of a few hundred feet, Neil noted over twenty of various sizes and angles. But something did not seem right now. The lagging and fuzzy picture did not display the room from their last-ditch effort to hold off the hoard.

"Dammit. That's not where we were…" cursed Logan, getting out of his seat to pace and stew.

Tony instructed the drone to rotate 360 degrees to search for a path. On all sides, only wall. No chamber where they fought. No incinerated bodies from Jean's blast. Nothing.

"It looks like wherever we came from is below this point." Tony pointed to the depth indicator on the left side of the screen. "Either our escape route caved in naturally… or they caved it in themselves. I think we are a few hundred feet from where we were."

"And how far from the big cave where you saw thousands?" Questioned Fury.

"About a thousand feet, maybe more. And then, a few hundred feet over… to the naturally occurring cave. I checked my suit's video. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, it's millions of years old. It's possible many more pockets exist and we'd never know. Too deep to scan. It also explains why we aren't finding mountains of dirt hauled to the surface to make room. Just miles of thin tunnels leading to open chambers, empty lava pockets from a million years ago... who knows. We can find these caverns a few thousand feet down, but not miles." Tony fell into a chair and spun around, attempting to put it all together. "Guys, I'm going to level with you. I stayed up all night watching the footage from my sensor suite. Jarvis and I counted over 8 thousand individual creatures. And that thing laying in the middle, a big one, larger than 3 blue whales. They seem to drop biomatter into this small lake, and that giant one absorbs it to help itself grow. Tyranids grow by using biomatter."

Fury leaned over to one of the intelligence officers beside him,

"What is our nuclear inventory?"

"Ten, at 250 kilotons, three at ten kilotons, Director."

"Ok. So Stark, what if we dropped those down the hole?"

Leaning back and looking at the ceiling, Tony answered, a hint of defeat on his breath.

"No good. The energy would come right out the top. You need backfilling, thousands of tons worth. That's why we needed the innard tunnel leading to the chamber. If we did it there, we could collapse it. If we detonate now… at the bottom of the shaft, no guarantees. Blast force takes the direction of least resistance. In this case, it's up."

Neil noted that Jean kept to herself, listening and watching, but saying very little. Underground he saw her power and insight to the alien creatures,  _ what is she thinking right now? Can she destroy them all? Is she able to go down and do that? _

"Well if they are underground, why not drown them? Detonate the nuke so the inlet floods the entire area?" Nick's idea seemed reasonable for any other enemy.  _ That's actually not bad… would that work? _

"They got here by swimming," Tony reminded them "...do we want them to swim out and go undetected? At least if they are subterranean, we will see them come out. Will water drown them all? Can we even get all the areas?"

_ Frig. He's right. Water would hide their escape… maybe? Water... water! _

_ Oh my god. Oh my god. The President's briefing on T.V… the… oh my god. _

Neil's hand shot into the air like a missile, pulling his ass off the seat.

Fury glanced over, annoyed.

"Yes Private?"

"Sir. The water. They are already in the water, they are in the oceans." Everyone stopped, all eyes turning to Neil. "The President said today, like half an hour ago on T.V., that a bailout package was headed for the fishing industry. There are no fish anywhere. Right?" Neil looked over at Tony, "... in the giant cavern they were tossing organic material into that goop. I think the Cap even said he saw fish, pulled from the inlet and brought down the tunnels."

Stark did not blink. Did not move. A thousand-yard stare of shock.

...then dawning realization.

After a few seconds, he slowly raised his hand to his ear,

"Jarvis. Launch Mr. Bubbles one, two, three, and four. Set their route along the New York and Venezuelan coast lines. Maximum depth. Sonar on active."

"Right away sir…" Tony got out of his chair, hands sunk deep into his pockets, looking straight out the massive windows. "No wonder the bioscanners couldn't find them. They are all underground and in the ocean. Maybe millions by now. Banner killed a bunch in a nest in Belgium, in some warehouse basement. It's nothing. It's just a scratch."

Nick Fury kept his focus on the shiny table surface, his fingers tapping, brainstorming solutions to a near-impossible problem.

"Get me Reed Richards, tell him we need a bio-weapon. Immediately." An assistant scurried off towards a communications station and put on a pair of headphones to make the call. Fury watched her go before turning his attention back to the group. “Listen-”

"It's too late for all this," whispered Jean, her eyes focused on the shiny table surface, "Not your submersible search vehicles or drowning them with nukes, or infecting them with a virus," glancing at Fury. "They are coming soon, very soon." She closed her eyes, strands of her hair rising up and floating a few inches from her shoulders. "When I rescued you, their… minds, their attention all focused on me. My power surprised them. If we destroy this nest, they are-" she twisted her head, pushing deeper and deeper into wherever it was she went. The future? Their consciousness? No one knew. "-They are coming for everyone soon."

Nick rose out of his seat, hot as hell, frustrated and angry.

"We can't just sit here and wait, Ms. Grey. What do you want me to tell world leaders," pointing out the window, "-that what? That aliens are things coming out of the ocean for them? That we did nothing? That we shouldn't nuke 'em? That we shouldn't poison them? What is your plan Ms. Grey?"

It only took Logan a single step before Nick noticed,

"Unless you want a matching eyepatch, you need to sit down and shut your mouth. I don't stop until I'm dead. How about you bub?"

Nick knew. Tony knew. Neil knew. Logan meant it, he fought for only a few reasons, the biggest being in that room, currently being yelled at and spoken down to. The guards along the walls each looked at one another. Tension flooded the space, heads turned from stations, but no one said a word.

Wolverine didn't blink,

Nick did.

Director Fury took a seat and then motioned to Jean with his hand,

"What is your idea, Ms. Grey."

Jean paid no attention to the drama, her mind elsewhere.

"Charles and I are going to plug into Cerebral, and we are going to kill them."

Nick glanced over at Tony who could only sit and rub his goatee in bafflement. Stark noticed the Director looking at him, hoping for confirmation, or words of encouragement. But none came, just exacerbated dismay, an admittance to not knowing if such a plan would work.

With that, Logan walked over to Jean and led her out of the room and straight for the Blackbird parked on the carrier deck. Tony contacted Bruce Banner and asked him to meet at Stark Tower, while Nick conversed with the World Security Council. Private Neil Cacot retired to his temporary bunk, the last at the end of a long row in Squad C’s housing unit. Beyond brief introductions and a few questions about his experience, Neil kept to himself, orders from Fury to stay quiet until a plan unfolded. Leaks would create mass panic he had told him.  _ At least his reputation is accurate, paranoid and secretive to the extreme.  _ After a long day and restless night, Neil awoke to the sounding of general quarters just as the sun broke through the clouds. Alarm klaxons blared through the floating carrier and the sound of boots running and marching echoed and banged against the kilotons of steel.

Grabbing his rifle, kevlar and helmet, Neil rushed through hatches and halls, clattering and banging up metal grated stairs before bursting out onto the flight deck. Running two-abreast, Squad C made its way over to twin-jet 37 assigned to New York. The ramp lowered and the team rushed in, piling into their seats along the webbing. Just as the engines whirled to life, a familiar voice came over the intercom inside the cargo hold. 

"Attention SHIELD agents. What I am about to tell you is classified Omega. But soon that fact will not matter as the public is being alerted as we speak. Each of your squads is being assigned to a major city along the coastline of the United States and elsewhere. In coordination with governments, military, and civilian defense forces, you will defend the free world. A threat far beyond the Chitauri is nearly upon us, from under us, from all around us. The X-Men have a plan to bring their destruction, but we are still going to prepare to repel boarders if that plan fails. Make no mistake. This menace is far beyond anything you have faced, and they grow in number. We are fighting for Earth, this is our planet. Good luck, Fury out."

Neil felt the sensation of lift, the twin-jet angling the engine-wash down to climb off the carrier deck. Men and women lined the seats along the webbing, checking their weapons and magazines.  _ Our guns were built and designed to kill people… not things with armor an inch thick. We will have to be smart. _ Through the portholes lining the cargo bay, Neil noted the fleet of transports and troop carriers starting to lift off the Helicarrier's deck. Over a thousand troops readied themselves for the war ahead, prepared to do battle with an enemy they did not know, with capabilities they could not dream.

_ Jean, if you are listening… we need you. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Twin-Jet 37, Squad C**

**35 Miles off the New York Coast**

"Three minutes!" Came the warning from Lieutenant Paul who stood hovering over the Pilot at the front. Back at the rear ramp, Neil could only enjoy blue sky and white clouds on the upper part of the windshield, the rest blocked by the dash and heads up display. Through the portholes, the continental United States stretched hundreds of miles North and South through the opposite window, the familiar scene for international fliers arriving from Europe.

Along the web-seating, agents rocked bath and forth, rifles standing between their legs, the magazines checked and rechecked ten times in nervous anticipation. Neil didn't bother to check again,  _ these guns just won't do. Maybe enough for a smaller Nid, or to finish off an injured one… not much else. It took 60 rounds to kill the one on the beach, and it lost 3 out of 4 limbs. _

_ But even so… we've got to try.  _ Peppered with questions from squadmates the entire flight, he found a moment to daydream about the war ahead. Out all windows, hundreds of aircraft flew headlong for New York. Some were twin-jets, others were F/A-18 Super Hornets from a carrier battle group a hundred miles from Virginia.

"Two minutes!" Through the front windscreen just over the Pilot's shoulder, New York's urban jungle became visible. Still distant but slowly rising higher into view now as they angled down to drop altitude.  _ Jean seemed pretty sure these things were coming, to wipe us out, to consume all of us.  _ Shrieks from airframe stress came right through the cargo area, moving from the right wing and over to the left, the air turbulence bouncing people around in their seats, sending unsecured helmets flying off heads.

"Hold onto your hats everyone. Got some rough air ahea-"

The brightest, whitest light illuminated all corners and aspects of every surface inside the transport. A thousand-million suns beamed through from the tip of Long Island. South and East Hampton disappeared in the blinding flash of white-light, fading a moment later into yellows and reds.

"HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!"

Through the left portholes, another violent flash of light, Delaware or perhaps New Jersey erupting into fire. Lt. Paul jammed his finger into a communications button and began calling out his observations. In seconds the radio burst into panicked calls for orders or help.

**Squad C - Are those nukes? Over.**

**Squad B - Roger, two on Long Island, another one or two somewhere in Delaware. Our Pilot is telling us the thinner air at this height will make it bumpy, but we'll be fine. Over.**

**Big Papa - Maintain current flight profile, get those teams on the ground!**

Paul came charging down from the cockpit, shouting and cursing every which way.

"Squad C, listen up!" He lunged for a handle as the twin-jet collided with the atmospheric shockwave, one can imagine the sound of being inside a can of beans when it's torn open. People grabbed webbing, handles, benches, and each other to keep from falling out into the aisle. "Nukes are going off in New York and… somewhere else, fuck if I know. So you meatheads listen to me. We don't know much except for what Private Cacot told us. These are big fucking bugs, and they are mean and nasty. We are landing at our L.Z. inside Manhattan, Bryant Park. That's right in front of the New York Public Library. We are to secure that position. D and J Squads are going to be with us. As far as I know, the National Guard is already there, but that's it. Private," Paul directed everyone to Neil, "you want to add anything."

"Ye-"

"Lieutenant! Come up here!" Neil couldn't even begin, let alone finish his last-minute instructions. Paul turned on his heels and ran back up to the Pilot before he whispered,

"Jesus... H..."

Down the line, agents stretched their necks and leaned out of their seats to try and see. Ahead, the Manhattan Skyline grew larger, Neil estimated they were only a thousand feet from the ground and maybe one or two miles from shore. The blinding light of nuclear detonations diminished to a red hue, the end of life spreading over the land. It did not take long for mayday calls to start. At first as a trickle, raging soon into a storm the closer the defense force got to land. Out of each porthole, twin-jets were dropping like flies, smoking from corrosive bile or speared by hardened projectile launching from the ground.

Another violent shake sent Neil falling into the aisle, then another, and another.

"We are taking incoming fire! Thirty seconds!"

A clank and hiss signaled the latch mechanism for the tailgate, and as Neil climbed back onto the webbing, the ramp began to lower. Roaring air rushed into the hull and over the thrashing and banging of metal and airframe strain, gunfire could be heard—lots of it.

Getting their first glimpse, only five hundred feet from the ground, hell enveloped the city.

Smoke billowed from infernos across the entire visible island, the nukes spreading their death for miles. Manhattan escaped the fireball but felt the brunt of the blastwaves. Buildings once so iconic now lay in ruin. Hundreds of streets appeared blocked or severely bottlenecked, an endless sea of destruction and chaos no matter the direction. In the distance, somewhere in Delaware, a mushroom cloud rose slowly to 50,000 feet. Neil knew that just out of his view, two more mushroom clouds spiraled to heaven. He only could imagine the civilians caught within them.

Narrowing their focus from the distant to the near, gunfire peppered the city, every single block, making it impossible to discern just how many soldiers and civilians fought below. No clear frontline could be identified; in some areas a trio of M1 tanks fired into a moving mass of black Tyranid, while three blocks to their rear a fleet of humvees burned with some melting into the asphalt.

"Standby, prepare to disembark." Paul moved to the rear of the jet, swaying from side to side as the transport buffeted against fire and air turbulence. Squad C followed suit, lining up in single file to rush to their positions. Buildings raced past on either side, the twin-jet only a hundred feet from the ground,

Seventy feet,

Sixty feet,

Neil saw something massive, larger than a bus tearing clean through the turret of a Bradley Infantry Fighting Vehicle, the crew trying to escape out the hatch and rear door.

Fifty feet,

Forty feet,

The turbines roared to slow their advance, with the nose tilting up to enable the rear legs to touchdown first.

"Get ready!"

Touchdown.

Down the ramp onto the grass, Paul yelled at them to take up position behind the Library at the corner of 5th and 42nd street. Head on a swivel, there was simply too much to take in without tripping and eating a dirt sandwich. Neil thought he recognized the tail rotor of an Apache Gunship sticking into the PriceWaterhouseCoopers building, the rest of the helicopter a twisted wreck deep inside the top floors.

Lieutenant Paul kept a good pace, holding down his earpiece to try and hear the instructions coming over the wire.

"Hurry! When we reach the corner, we hold down the position. Command is telling us that the nukes didn't get them all on Long Island, more Nids are coming through Queens and are going to cross the midtown bridge near the U.N. We are to shoot at anything that comes over."

With such a narrow point of reference to the climactic battle, Neil couldn't tell if the Tyranid were around the next corner or several blocks away.

"Watch it!" A squadmate shouted while pointing to the right. Sure enough, a Tyranid known as a Gaunt clawed its way out of the ground near the Library's foundation wall. Everyone dropped to their stomachs and began to fire. Their rifles set for 3-round bursts, the blasts struck the creature before it could raise its arm weapon to bear. Bullets pinged and sparked against the thick skin and armor, with some missing entirely, hitting the concrete wall behind. A blob of fluid ejected from the Gaunt arm and splashed somewhere down the line away from Neil.  _ This looks like the same subspecies that killed Tutono. _

A 40mm grenade hit the target and the Gaunt exploded, a leg flying into the air followed by rain of guts and blood. It squirmed and flailed, roaring and hissing. On the rooftop, soldiers fired down into the hole, using energy weapons that Neil never encountered before. Roars and screams followed, silenced by a concussive blast from a Hydra energy grenade that SHIELD developed. The ground swelled and then collapsed down, blocking the advance of more Nids below the surface.

_ Holy shit, they are under New York. _

"Let's go, let's go!"

C-Squad pulled themselves off the grass and continued their advance, Neil noticing only then that four men lay dead on the ground. In all the gunfire he couldn't be sure how they died,  _ those bags of pus they are shooting, what the fuck are those? More worms? _

Rushing alongside the Library, they finally arrived at their destination, taking up a position near an outcropping of trees and bushes. From their vantage point, the squad could see all the way down to the U.N. building and then South along 5th street to the tip of Manhattan. In both directions, buildings lay toppled and smoke so thick that it doubled as a screen for both humans and aliens.

"Check your mags, check your 40's, when these fuckers come I want to be able to hold them off."

Neil rechecked his grenades, still there, but he did need to add something he wasn't able to mention on the aircraft.

"We should concentrate our fire on a single Nid. If there are two coming at us, we fire at one until it drops, not both. It's going to take everything to just kill one."

"Understood Private, but there are thousands of civilians who are being eaten alive, we can’t wait for the perfect opportunity to engage." Paul hunkered down, trying to hear the message coming over his earpiece. "Command is gone. Overrun…"

In all directions, endless fire poured into wherever the enemy walked and stalked. But down in the grass, huddled behind the wall on the corner of 5th and 42nd, Neil's observable battlefield was less than a few hundred feet. He heard people throwing up and screaming not far off, a bladder of pile bursting a hundred feet above, the raindrop sized clusters of viral infection soaking the ground and oozing over equipment and people alike. Arching his neck back, Apache helicopters released salvos of Hellfire missiles in the direction of the midtown bridge near the U.N.,

One,

Five,

Ten,

Twenty missiles from the Squadron.

_ Great, but what happens when they run out of missiles? What happens when I run out of grenades and ammo? These fuckers are growing from the very… ground we walk on. _

Discerning friend from foe in the nightmarish scene began to prove difficult. Half the rounds expended missed, some hit friendlies while others shot at shadows in the billowing smoke. From under a burning Humvee, a soldier crawled out, and a Squadmate was just about to rush forward to grab him when Paul held him fast.

"Look! He's… holy fuck, he's changing!"

The infantry man's face stretched and hung down, his skin melting and shifting. He screamed for help as the alien virus ate and dissolved, transformed and adjusted. He tried to move his hand from the street, but the skin stuck, ripping flesh from bone, his howls turning to a gurgle before falling silent to a barrage of fire from fellow Marines in another platoon. The remaining infantrymen dove over the bushes and dropped into position near the Lieutenant. Neil strained to listen, catching what he could.

**-pulling back! 32nd Battalion is wiped out**

**-acid melts right through the tanks in about a minute,**

**-virus bombs, people are puking-**

**-medic tent in central park is completely infected**

**-If you stay you are gonna die, 82nd is gone, regrouping at-**

However low the pit of Neil's stomach already rested, it fell further. The rest of their conversation fell away to the rattling of rifle bolts clattering and banging. Neil lifted his own rifle and squeezed a couple of shots into what he perceived to be a Nid crawling on the side of a building. Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't. By the time the smoke drifted to reveal more, only a broken wall.  _ This is not good, not good. Can't see fucking shit. Can't hit shit. Can’t kill sh- _

A sudden shockwave blew half the squad to the ground, the ear-splitting blast sending Neil’s rifle several feet away.  _ FUCK.  _ Disoriented and dazed, he clawed his way along the ground to fetch his weapon. Someone screamed for a medic, partly drowned out by the pounding of guns and clanging of ammunition belts.  _ Did someone drop a bomb near us?  _ He didn’t know. No one knew, the chaos only intensifying by the minute. He slapped another magazine in and fired off a few more rounds. Another miss. _ We can't hit these things at 600 yards, we need to wait for them to get close so we have some stopping power. _

Catching his eye beyond a smoldering building, a cylindrical shaped craft darted along one of the streets before climbing into the sky. Silver and no larger than a car, the Fantastic Four drone began to unleash a blue rain, only staying in one spot for less than a few seconds before moving and spraying again. Other squad members soon began to call out more drones, each deploying the blue water from high above.

Then a familiar voice, one he knew,  _ Ironman!,  _ stood on the sidewalk just beyond the bushes with two other Avengers.

"Get down there and hammer the big one, it's coming out of the East River right now. I'll meet you and Thor back at Xavier's Mansion, they aren't done modifying Cerebral yet." Bruce Banner stood in flip flops, a t-shirt, and shorts. Beside him, Thor, his cape torn in half, and his silver suit ripped down the arm. Blood dripped down and onto the sidewalk, the godman bled.

"These are the terrible-ones that Asgard once faced in another dimension. Father hid the 9 realms from that place. It takes most of his power to keep all realms hidden. That is why he must rest, as he does now. Maybe when Loki's army came through their wormhole, it created a temporary rip. Father called them the Great Devourers."

"Remind me to blame your brother when this is all over," quipped Tony. "I just spoke with the Professor, they will be ready in about a day, clean up what you can and rendezvous at the X-Men Mansion in Salem, should be…" he turned and pointed, " ...about 200 miles north of here."

"What's all that blue stuff those drones are dropping?" Asked Banner, pointing at one as it whisked past.

"Reed Richards developed a poison he thinks might work, we'll see. But right now I need to get to Connecticut. The Nids are attacking on two fronts, here and up there. Looks like a pincer towards the Mansion. I don't know how, but both swarms are going in that direction, they seem to know what is going to happen." Tony sighed and looked around at the devastation. "The President authorized more nukes… but it's barely slowing them down. I gotta go, see you gentlemen in a bit, make it quick," pointing towards the East River. The visor clanged shut and he accelerated up and away.

Thor looked over at Bruce, spinning his hammer and preparing for flight.

"Ready to slay a beast?"

"I am the beast." Bruce yelled and convulsed, his shirt ripping and exploding right off his back. With a mighty roar the green engine of rage headed East down 42nd, and Neil squinted to see what might be opposing him.  _ What is Tony talking about? What big one? _

Then he saw it. The biggest Tyranid their near infinite depth of DNA could grow. Despite the 7 blocks separating the midtown bridge from their current location, it's size still seemed unbelievable. A Dominatrix Bio-Titan began to climb out of the East River onto the FDR parkway. It's fully armored Komodo Dragon shaped head twice the size of a dump truck.

_ Oh... _

_ My... _

_ God… _

Greyish black armored slats covered most of the body, the four-legged reptilian creature heaved its titanic bulk onto land, atop it's back, a cannon. _ The fucking thing has artillery growing out of its spine!  _ Boney scythes 40 feet long and 5 feet thick took a giant swath out of something just behind the U.N. building. The resulting fireball not harming the giant creature, the fire climbing up and around an invisible barrier.  _ Are my eyes screwing with me or is everything distorted around that thing? Light isn't moving right, it's not natural, sort of… warped?  _ Above the Library, the Squadron of Apache's opened up with their 30mm cannons, peppering the Dominatrix with thousands of rounds.  _ It's too far, I can't see if it's doing any damage.  _ Neil's attention lowered to the Hulk, only two blocks from the monstrosity, Thor flew just over him, timing their attack.  _ Oh god, the creature spotted them. _ All five-hundred tons of alien muscle, bone, and armor focused on the two incoming Avengers. It opened its jaws and let out a roar louder than a hundred jet engines. From the seventy-foot cannon mounted upon it's back, a green ball of gelatinous fluid flew out. High into the air and soaring over the buildings, the giant bladder ten feet across exploded in a splash. Another launched, then another, each in a different area of the city. One erupted a few thousand feet above the helicopters _ , holy shit we are right under it. Are those worms? Bacteria? Acid? All three? _

"RETREAT!" Screamed Lieutenant Paul, glancing up and then grabbing agents to push them along. One woman didn't make it more than a foot before a black claw jutted out of the ground, pulling her into a catacomb of tunnels. Some agents managed to squeeze off a few bursts before acid, bone shards, or projectile creatures nearly too small to see burrowed into their eyes and ears. Three more fell, only eight remained in a headlong dash for the transport, a combination of running backward while shooting and sprinting forward.

From the gaping hole, an elephant sized Carnifex emerged. Dripping in saliva and bristling with spiked armor, its walnut-sized brain a slave to the Hive Mind. Around it's tree-trunk legs, iterations of beasts mutated and assimilated from a trillion worlds scurried in all directions.

"Concentrate your fire on the head!" Shouted Paul, dropping to one knee. Eight soldiers opened up with their 3x5.56mm round bursts, striking armor designed to withstand far greater impacts. Each round bounced off harmlessly, the creature not paying attention as it shifted its weight onto the side of the Library, clawing and scratching its way up the concrete wall. Soldiers on the roof leaned over the edge, and if it hadn't been for the acid rain from the Dominatrix burst, may have succeeded in holding it at bay. Going unnoticed because of the calamity below, the Squadron of Apache's fought to stay in the air, their hydraulics melting from the burst bladder sent flying a moment earlier. Metal and rotors rained down, collapsing the roof and sending the special unit to their death, buried in a hundred tons of ruble.

"Retreat to the twin-jet!" Paul pressed his radio earpiece. "Pilot, get us in the air. We are regrouping at the X-Men mansion. Go go go!" Paul signaled his men to follow when a blazing blur of fire flew past and unloaded a cyclonic firestorm into the pit and the rest of the Library grounds. Fire engulfed the Carnifex and slithering and scrambling smaller creatures. Roars and hisses lasted a few seconds before their internal organs cooked and bones fused.

_ The Human Torch!  _ Neil squinted through the wall of flame to see how Hulk and Thor fared. But the blazing inferno roared to an even greater degree, blocking his view and causing the hairs on his face and arms to singe.  _ Did you guys kill that dragon yet?!  _ Paul grabbed his arm and yanked, rushing headlong for safety and escape. One hundred feet from the ramp, another squadmate dropped in screams and agony, a blast from a Gaunt sending worms and slugs deep into his face, eating and carving their way into the brainstem and nervous system.

Ninety feet

Eighty feet

Seventy feet

Three more members collapsed, bone shards entering and exiting their skulls before the pain could register.

Sixty.

Neil glanced to the left, six tanks clanked through the bush and fence, unloading their 120mm's into something he could not see. The commander's hatch 50 calibers fired and fired, the bullet casings spewing off the turret and onto the ground.

Fifty feet.

On the right, a rifle squad unleashed buckets of fire into the air, firing straight up at a screaming swarm. Down from the sky, winged Tyranids swooped in from the black smoke.  _ Holy shit Nids are flying; they have fliers. _

With only twenty feet to go, the last remnants of the squad fell, an acid projectile bursting just in front of their faces, by the time Neil caught up to them, their skin, bone, and helmet were one.

Then Paul fell.

Neil whirled around to grab his Lieutenant but stopped at his request.

"Go! Get to the Mansion and help defend it. They are our last chance! Go!" He began to spasm and foam at the mouth, the viral agent taking its toll.  _ Fuck Fuck Fuck _

Neil clambered up the ramp, the Pilot glancing back, unable to hide his dismay.

"Where… where is everyone?"

"Dead!"

Cacot turned back around to look at the battlefield. Everywhere things crawled and walked, creatures with features he scarcely understood swayed and hunted in the smoke and fire. Still, infantry fought. Brave men and women, mothers and fathers armed themselves with whatever they could find. In one instance, a platoon of Green Beret's mixed with civilians rushed a Carnifex after they expended all their ammunition.

_ You people will not die in vain. _

The twin-jet shook violently, a blastwave from a doomed tank straining the landing gear as the jet fought to stabilize itself under the stress.

"We need to go private!"

"We just can't leave everyone!" Spat Neil over his shoulder

"They wouldn't have it any other way." the Pilot turned towards the windshield and radioed to whoever may still be alive. "Twin-jet 37, en route to Salem."

The ramp closed but the sound continued as they climbed out of the battlefield. Rattling and bouncing around, Neil could only think of the immediate future; the defense of the Mansion, and Jean's ultimate plan.


	6. Chapter 6

**Twin-Jet 37, New York**

An endless stream of tungsten tipped rounds spewed out from the transport's underslung battling gun. Neil braced himself behind the Pilot as they banked sideways away from the Library. The Earth rotated on a 40-degree angle, a strange point of view for those who have never pulled maneuvers in an aircraft.

"Come on, come on…" Neil willed the jet along, taking no satisfaction in abandoning the tens of thousands, _maybe millions,_ in the streets. Something exploded in a torrent of bile and guts, the 20mm striking a Tyranid full of fluid. But both men hardly noticed, instead their focus remained upward, like someone searching for cobwebs on the ceiling of an old cottage. "I don't see any of those giant bats."

"Can't see shit, let's pray." The Pilot tilted the nose up and the ground fell away from view.

400 feet,

500 feet

600 feet

A green sack of something burst just below them,

700 feet

800 feet

Down 6th avenue, the tops of the building were covered with civilians, shouting and screaming into the air. In some cases, Tyranids crawled up the exterior walls, inching their way to feast on the weak and defenseless. Neil glanced at the ammo counter, _only 168 rounds left… we can't save all these people. If we land we'll get chewed up; if we stop and pick-off targets, we'll get hit._

"Pilot, save the ammo for the Mansion…" a somber decision, but given the circumstance, the correct one. With great reluctance, the Pilot released his grip on the firing trigger and the gun abruptly stopped. Passing over a few more buildings, still climbing out of the Manhattan district, Neil glanced down one last time.

"Oh god, is that…?" pointing to the top of one of the buildings within the Rockefeller Center. Even through the smoke, everyone on Earth would recognize the outfit.

"Damn, ya... that's Spiderman. Hope he went quick…" In a few more seconds, the rooftops disappeared under the black carpet of smoke. Tens of thousands of burning buildings could not be fully comprehended until they were a few thousand feet in the air. Aircraft by the hundreds streaked low and unloaded their salvo of missiles and 20 and 30mm rounds. A pair of A10 Warthogs descended into the smoke, neither coming back out as far as Neil and the Pilot could tell.

"We'll be in Salem in about 25 minutes,"

Over Yonkers and then White Plains, with each mile destruction diminished, until only the occasional gust of smoke waffled in the air. _I guess the blast wave stopped around here, just broken windows and a few burning roofs…neighborhoods seem to be ok, at least for now. Longer-term, there is going to be a lot of sick people from radiation poisoning._ The concept of not pulling through doesn't naturally occur in Earth biology, due to millions of years of human or animal evolution. What works stuck around, what didn't, failed to pass to future generations. Evolution by its nature lets us believe we will succeed, even in the face of utter destruction. Cacot thought of this for a while, taking a seat to contemplate the next few hours and days.

_I feel that when this is all over, I'll be back at work, or eating a nice dinner at a restaurant… or even just taking a nice rest in my bed. But if I think about it logically, if I really think about what is happening. That is not going to happen. These fuckers are eating the planet, consuming and producing from the sea and ground. Even if we kill the assault today, how about the next one growing as the first wave charges forward?_

_Certainly we can't lose the planet, right?_

_Certainly not._

"Private, better come up, feed coming in from SHIELD."

Nick Fury's face filled the screen from the bridge of the Helicarrier, looking a little worse for wear under the stress of decisions to save the world.

"Attention SHIELD agents. I wanted to update you on the events unfolding right now around the planet. Normally this would be on a need to know basis, but with failing communication stations and mass panic, this message is going out to everyone. Some of you are fighting in New York or London, some of you are on guard duty where there is no activity. Rest assured, there will be activity soon if there is none now. Many attacks are occurring right now in coastal cities, none as devastating as New York or Mumbai. But that doesn't mean more will not come. World Leaders have agreed to take all measures necessary to defeat this menace, the waves of Tyranid cannot be allowed to make a beachhead. Nuclear weapons are being used to drive back the invaders, we have had success in London, and in Vancouver, Canada." _Really? Is he full of shit? Is this a lie to inspire us? Or did we really defend successfully?_ "As some of you are aware, there is a weapon system being prepared right now" _Jean and Charles are the weapons,_ "which hopefully will bring an end to this menace. But we must be prepared if that system fails. Reed Richards, or as you may know him, Mr. Fantastic, reported to me a moment ago that his poison is having an effect. Without drowning you with details, slowing down does not mean stop. Lastly, some strategic resources are being reallocated in the light of new intel we just received from the Russian Navy. Less than 10 minutes ago, something emerged from the Arctic Ocean near Severny Island in Arkhangelsk Oblast, Russia. It looks like a ship, so we will hit it with everything we've got before it reaches orbit. I am now going to turn this over to Mr. Fantastic, who will give you more details of who we are fighting. Reed?"

_A ship is coming out of the Arctic Ocean? Animals don't fly ships? What the fuck._

The screen flickered and the thin-faced Reed appeared. Dark hair with traces of grey on the side, he didn't even bother to face the camera as he spoke—research taking priority over politeness.

"Listen everyone…" the pause so long the Pilot hit the side of the screen to make sure it didn't freeze, "-listen. This Tyranid organism is the most complex I have ever seen. It is the most complex I can imagine existing. The D.N.A. alone is… well, we have not yet been able to sequence it all. I have run tests on many specimens now. All have identical D.N.A., they all come from the same gene pool. They are incredible." Susan Storm brought over some papers for him to check. "Their carapaces, or what you would know as armor, is durable to a point where I find it implausible to try and defeat them conventionally. Which is why my poison is being rapidly synthesized. As Director Fury eluded too, I have seen some promising results. I am sending a drone to the huge, for lack of a better word, Hive Ship, breaking the surface of the Arctic Ocean. At 11 miles long and about 3 wide, I suspect it's armor at 40 to 50 feet thick. Your nuclear weapons may work, but so much of the energy will be used to defeat the carapace that there might not be enough left to hurt such a large creature. And make no mistake, I believe it to be a creature, much like the ones we see running through the cities around the world. The biomass required for this scale of growth suggests it began to grow shortly after they arrived. Tony?"

Again the screen flashed and Stark appeared from inside his helmet, the tight angle shot making his nose appear much larger than it actually was.

"Nick, listen up. When you hit that Hive Ship, you send all nukes to a single area. Pick a spot and hit it, one after another. You remember those flying whales from New York? The armor on that was about 8 inches, and I couldn't get through with my laser. If Reed is right, and I think he is, you can't afford to try and break through 50 feet of it in twenty different areas. I'm on my way to the Mansion now. Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts are all under attack. Boston is overrun… if anyone can contact Bruce Banner or Thor… let me know…" Tony's voice cracked, maybe the realization that hope continued to fade. "Godspeed everyone."

Neil stared at the black screen for a few moments, grappling with the consequences of all that information. _They must have strip-mined the entire Ocean of anything biological… animals, plantlife… the very water._ The rest of the flight passed without a word, too stunned and lost in their own thoughts to bother.

_At least if I am going to die, it's going to be for something..._

_Actually, who cares… no one will be left to remember us._

"One minute to landing, doesn't seem like anything got up this far yet."

Rolling hills of lush green and blue streams filled every corner of Neil's vision. The Mansion sat on acres of land, surrounded by tranquility only elite money could buy. That is until the infestation, now it looked more like a construction zone.

Ahead the red brick Mansion stood as it had for hundreds of years, the centerpiece of the beautiful area. Only now its usual peaceful grounds rumbled and shook with construction machines. Over twenty Bulldozers and excavators worked in tandem, digging trenches and other fortifications where direct fire artillery and other gun emplacements waited to be housed.

As the twin-jet angled upward for the last fifty feet before the rear wheels touched down first on the front lawn, Neil spotted a figure floating over the roof.

"Who the hell is that? In the red helmet?"

"I think that's the guy who can move metal, how else could that bulldozer be floating over there?" Sure enough, Magneto moved the machines with his mind to reposition them quickly to push more dirt and dig more trenches. Both men came down the ramp and took in what they could. More granular than a flyover, Neil saw the work being hurried for at least a mile in the southern direction. To the East, more fortifications, the report of Delaware falling adding necessity for a two-sided defense.

"Hey, neanderthals, come here." Blue skinned and yellow-eyed, Mystique's hatred for all human-kind resonated even in the most desperate of times. She strode over from the front steps, a clipboard in hand and a communicator in her ear. _Oh yes, I've heard of her. Magneto's right hand...man? Woman? Right-hand person._ "You two idiots are going to help us. You, Pilot," dismissive to the point of revulsion, "-when the action starts, you get in the air and unload everything you have into the swarm before you get shot down. Got it?" She flicked her fingers and summarily dismissed him, like royalty to a handmaiden. Her assumption of his death without any sign of remorse or care didn't go without notice. The Pilot simply stood and stared, blinking at the suggestion. "You, soldier. You are going to go down to that trench line," Neil turned to follow her finger "...and you stay there and fight. And you don't stop fighting until you are dead. Got it?"

"Absolutely… actually kinda sounds like something Wolverine would say."

Before Neil could take his next breath, Mystique spun him around and wrenched him forward by the collar. Her eyes boiling in rage,

"You are nothing like Logan. **_Nothing!_ **" Off his feet and thrown a few feet back and onto his ass, Neil didn't realize his innocent remark would invoke such a reaction. "While your kind comes up with endless ways to control us, and catalog us, we are doing the heavy lifting. While you squirm, cry, and whimper, we are fighting. Logan will fight, and fight, and fight and fight, long after you are dead. Do not forget it." Ending as fast as it started, the blue-skinned mutant turned and headed back to the Mansion.

Both men exchanged a bewildered look before parting ways,

"Good luck,"

"Ya…you too."

Neil started out towards the assortment of trench and defensive positions that Mystique indicated. Southbound from the Mansion, the ideally kept lawn soon fell away to jutted dirt where the caterpillar tracks of bulldozers traversed. Layers of razor wire guided his path, an intricate assembly of hurried positions, strewn together in less than a few hours. _This wire should be outside the defensive areas, but it looks like they are just throwing everything in here… just a mess._ The more he looked, the more people he noticed. Thousands walked and talked over the sprawling estate grounds. Soldiers, agents, national guard, mutants, and _families?!_ Parents and children alike assisted in the war effort. Digging, pulling, pushing, filling, and a hundred other activities. _Those kids look like they are eight years old._ More flooded to the forefront of his attention. Thousands of children and adult civilians helped in the sprawling space, many holding weapons and knives in preparation for what lay ahead. After a few minutes of walking and sobering realization, Neil paused and glanced back at the big house. _Humanity's last stand, in a place designed to help mutants against our bigotry. The irony._ Cacot squinted to spot anyone familiar,

 _Still no Thor or Hulk? Where are they? Surely he can fly faster than a twin-jet._ Logan came around a corner with an entourage of National Guard, pointing and directing them where to go. _Ok so he's here, that's good. Anyone else? Where is Ironman? Maybe he's inside trying to assist? Who knows._

It took another twenty minutes for Neil to wind his way through the maze of fortifications, trenches and razor wire, eventually reaching his home for the next day, a shithole on grid 38B. Six feet deep and hastily dug, the trench line ran from one side of the property to the other, miles long and one of dozens, it did not have steps or boxes for him to see over the lip. Looking up and down, people managed in various ways, some stood on their helmets, others chipped away dirt from the wall and made a small mound to stand on.

"Hey buddy, can I borrow that shovel?"

Neil grabbed the spade-shovel from a guardsman and returned to his small corner of the world. Why bother to talk at this point? Why bother to meet anyone? It didn't seem necessary. Hacking away a bit at a time, he managed to bring soil down from the trench-wall allowing his head to perch a foot above the lip. To the South, bulldozers spewed black smoke into the air in their endless work, _but will it be enough?_

 _So what's the deal? How do we know when those fuckers are coming? Who do I report to? Do I get a radio? I could ask I guess, but does it really matter if I know when they are coming? One guy with…_ he laid out his items, taking a good look at what remained of his inventory. _Two magazines plus one in the rifle, three 40's and a knife. FUCK._ Neil shoved a grenade into the underslung launcher at the end of his barrel and sat down. _Should I keep my head out? Why?_

 _Dammit. This is not good, this negativity. Gotta keep it together._ He pulled himself up and again looked out into the rolling hills beyond their defensive line. Green forest after green forest, the treeline starting a mile out. Hours passed, nothing.

The sun fell to his right, settling down just under the horizon. Flashlights snapped on here and there, people were talking and strategizing, discussing exactly how much ammunition to use per creature and a variety of tactics. Down in the blackness, hours past. How many? He did not know. With his head resting against the dirt, he heard footsteps to his right. Too dark to see, he could only guess who it might be.

"Hey kid," _Wolverine!_ "I just wanted to come over here and say good luck. I saw you come off that transport, followed your scent over here. You just sitting by yourself?"

"Well. Uh, ya. The blue lady asked me to come over and just you know… fight? Nothing much more was said." This seemed to amuse Logan, and he settled in across the trench floor on the opposite wall.

"Oh… ya. She's a handful," a wry smile detectable despite the absence of light. "She hates humans, like you. Like Stark. But, we all need each other right now. Somewhere deep down, she knows it too."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Are you scared?" Neil felt embarrassed to even ask, but he knew that this might be the end of life as they knew it.

"We are all scared. I've been in many wars over the years. The difference now is that these Tyranids don't seem to be fighting for anything we can understand. Jean said… ah, doesn't matter. These things..." he drifted off in his own thoughts, both sitting in silence for a long time.

_Can't negotiate a ceasefire, or surrender… nothing. He's right. This is different._

Neil wasn't sure if he nodded off when radios crackled, his head coming off the trench wall. Looking up the sky no longer seemed completely black, but a shade of blue, the sun only an hour from rising. Logan was gone, leaving him alone in the chilling early morning. He pulled his phone to check the time, 4:58am—no missed text messages or calls. _No surprise, no one ever texts or calls me._

Standing and stretching, he worked the knots out of the muscle from the uncomfortable position he fell asleep in. _Did I hear radios? Yes-_ One lay right at his feet, _Logan must have left it for me._ Tony Stark's voice came through, and he bent down to adjust the volume.

"-repeat, the SHIELD Helicarrier is down." _Oh god no…_ "reports are now sporadic, but we can expect incoming here at the Mansion very soon. Keep a sharp eye out, the swarm seems to use forward units, they are hard to spot and can blend in very well. Reed Richard's will continue to drop the poison into the incoming ranks of Tyranid, but the effect seems to be diminishing..." the line cut. The entire thousand-acre estate and surrounding countryside waited on bated breath. "Folks listen to me. What's left of our intelligence apparatus is in shambles, but they have revealed a few things we ought to know. There is a type of Tyranid with telepathic powers, you can spot them easily enough if you get a chance. They are thin and float above the ground with big giant heads. We're calling them Zoenthropes, don't ask, I didn't come up with it. If you got a better name, let me know when this is all over. They can wipe out entire platoons with a psychic blast, I'm… they are a major threat. We think that is how the Helicarrier was taken down, because it never sent a mayday, it just fell right out of the sky, and no ejection pods were spotted."

Curses and disbelief came through the night, sound traveling far in the complete stillness. Children asked their parents what it all meant, but what could be said? Better to lie than be honest perhaps.

"But it did not go down without accomplishing its mission. They launched a concentrated attack on the Hive Ship, creating a blast hole which sent it crashing into the tip of Finland." More silence, Neil practically heard Tony's cogs turning and thinking, trying to address a crowd desperately needing good news. "But, my satellite is showing the body repairing itself… All nukes available are launching to try and kill it, but I can't say how successful that will be. Command and Control for many launch sites isn't operable…"

_How many nukes will it take to kill this thing? 50-foot armor? 11 miles long? God._

"Expect contact soon from the South, take up your positions, and let's defend this place until the Professor and Ms. Grey are ready. If we pull through, pizzas and beer on me. Stark out."

 _Neil's eyes inched over the trench line, straining and squinting for any sign of danger._ Gloomy shadows and movement, _is that a person? Is that a soldier moving into a new position? Christ. Can't see anything._

"Psst. Hey," a father fifty feet to Neil's left made his way over, a young child in tow. Both carried C7 rifles, "sorry to bother you, but could you show us how to reload these things?" Neil wasn't sure what to say or how to say it. The father wore a knitted burgundy sweater and jeans, balding, and by best guesses, somewhere in his mid 40’s. _Looks like a pencil pusher… surely he… they can't fight, right? They need to run and hide._ "I think you gotta… pull this thing, and then the clip? The clip goes in the bottom? Is that right?" _But where would they run to? Everything will be eaten and absorbed if the aliens are not stopped. Here is as good a place as any._ Neil reached over and showed the father and his son how to swap out the magazines and check for jams during rapid fire. After ten minutes of practice, they could reload and switch out very quickly. "Thanks buddy, thank you, oh.. Um, I'm John by the way, this is Gab," offering his hand. Neil shook it and glanced down at the boy,

"Good luck out here Gab, stay close to your dad."

"Oh I will sir, my daddy is the best."

With a nod, John and his son walked off into the dark trench, just within earshot, Neil heard their exchange.

**You see? That was pretty easy. Now we can show your sister and mom.**

_God Jesus fuck. Why is this happening? Why!?_ Swallowing a massive ball of guilt and anxiety, the idea of families fighting on the front lines cut deep. _Soldiers, cops, sure. But not this. This is wrong. It's all so wrong._ He looked up at the sky and called out to the maker,

_Dear God, please help us. I do not know why this is happening, only that you work in mysterious ways. Please look down and protect these families, thank you. Amen._

5 minutes passed

10 minutes

15 minutes

 _So these animals can attack our minds?_ The idea of the Zoenthrope didn't sit well, not for Neil, not for many along the estate grounds. Over walls and razor wire, people discussed it among themselves. How can animals attack the mind? Impossible, right? The loose consensus pointed to a mistake in intelligence. But they could not possibly know the truth of what approached—the telepathic might of the Great Devourer.

20 minutes

30 minutes

Far ahead in the front defensive zone, screams preceded automatic weapons fire. More joined, ten rifles firing at something unseen and unheard. Despite being almost a mile away, Neil's fingers wrapped around his gun, sweat pouring from his brow and down his back and neck. Now to the extreme right of their fortifications, bursts of rifles came and quickly fell.

A scream.

Another scream.

_Oh my god, they are here._

**_CONTACT! GRID 2! GRID 2!_ **

Synchronized within a few seconds, unknown amounts of 155mm artillery began their direct-fire bombardment of the treeline. The pounding of guns despite their position being at the Mansion sounded like thunder in Neil's ears. Then came the 120mm of the Abrams tanks, clanking and firing their way into a better position. Round after searing round smacked into the front lines. Orange and reds of staggering proportion lit the estate grounds like a 4th of July festival. Forty M1A2 Abrams and a hundred Bradleys chewed away at whatever lay just beyond the forest ridgeline. M777 canons, usually slower to reload and fire, kept an incredible pace, their crew working the powder charges and shells like never before. The booming and blasting deafened the ears and rattled the brain, trees splintered and toppled and mounds of dirt fell off the walls of the trench lines. Down in their holes and flat against embankments, civilians and military alike plugged their ears throughout the cacophony of noise and concussive blasts. Even from a mile away, Neil heard the roaring and hissing of a Tyranids being pulverized into slush. And it did not abate.

Flares launched into the air by the hundreds, and then,

And only then, did Neil appreciate the volume of Tyranid coming at them. Unlike the city where buildings and rubble blocked his field of view, now he could see everything. A moving wall of flesh and armor, claw and teeth, rumbled and swayed forward. 

_Oh…_

_My…_

Nearly scaring the living shit out of him, a squad of Navy Seals scrambled down into the trench to his right. They were on radios calling out fire positions and illuminating the edge of the battlefield with targeting lasers. Utter hell descended, a red beam from the Mansion engulfed a hundred creatures, followed by another sweep. Neil wasn't sure who could do that, but remembered reading about an X-Men who shot rays from his eyes. A moment later, someone flew overhead with laser beams lancing out, _Ironman?_ Bulldozers and trucks of all sorts began to fly off the ground and collided straight into whatever didn't look human. Screams, shouting, and terrified pleas came from every direction. Soon the small unit of Navy Seals began opening up with their own rifles, their stuttered shots designed to conserve ammo and keep their guns on target. Neil couldn't understand why they were shooting at such a distance until he looked up a few degrees. Against the softening sky, fliers swooped in, dropping into trenches and onto bunkers.

"Bravo Team!! **_ADVANCE!_ **"

The seals clambered up the wall and rushed forward through the twisting maze of wire, dropping to a knee to take a shot before carrying on forward. A few seconds later, the Earth beside Neil hissed, and then another spot, and another. Acid droplets began raining down from the sky, the creatures returning fire from far off. Everywhere people were yelling, some with worms eating into their flesh, others panicking as they came face to face with a Nid.

Subtle green flashes began to 'pop' high above and then disappear, only to reappear in a different area. Then every so often, a massive greenish 'pop.' _I've seen that before in the city._ At first no one could make sense of what they were until minutes later. Bile, bacteria, and worms fell onto the trench lines and machines, covering them in slimy-slick pus. The cruelty of the Tyranid weapons were not always apparent upon contact, sometimes the virus took minutes to take effect, causing a warfighter to collapse in spasms or extreme pain from distended intestines or eyeballs.

"Do not touch the ground with your bare hands!" Shouted Neil to anyone who would listen.

From overhead, twin-jet 37 spun out of control, careening into a ball of fire and light somewhere beyond the trees. A final attack from the Pilot. _Damn. So long…_ Apache helicopters rerooted from other areas peppered the ground with 30mm fire, their hellfire missiles long gone from other engagements. Attrition of munitions and resources becoming as much an enemy as the aliens. JDAM's, freefall, and other ordinance from bombers high above soon fell silent. Unable to rearm or refuel within a reasonable distance or time, they simply left to find an airbase still open. _Would these pilots even go back up? Or would they run to their families? Would the guys driving the fuel trucks and operating the pumps show up?_

Still facing south, Neil noted that the front line now came within 500 feet of his position. He steadied his rifle and began to fire, at what he did not know. Burst after burst until the magazine ran dry. He tossed it out and slapped in another, firing endlessly until he pushed in his last magazine. His final 30 bullets. He let loose his grenades, but in the thunderous overture of tanks and Bradleys, they seemed inadequate.

Over the radio, commands and orders were given, Stark desperate to maintain cohesion among the chaos closing in on them. From behind, a tank exploded in a flash of red and orange, the shells igniting from acid eating through the hull. Soon after a swarm of airborne fliers descended upon the artillery teams, tearing and ripping at flesh and metal alike. C.W.I.S. Phalanx 20mm turrets on flatbed trucks fired continuously, their tracer rounds flying high into the sky. As the close-in defense systems killed hundreds of winged abominations, hundreds more replaced them, fearless and lacking any sense of self preservation.

Neil glanced forward again, _they are getting close, maybe four-hundred feet. They are numberless._ To his right, John and his son Gab were firing wildly, the kick from the guns knocking them back. A little girl who Neil guessed was his daughter nearly fell back due to the recoil. But despite this, she fired—one shot at a time, standing on a crate stacked on a pile of mud.

Out of nowhere, a cold breeze blasted the landscape and a sheet of ice began to form, a wall to stop the incoming waves. For a brief moment, it seemed to work. Temporarily taking the creatures out of their element, their bodies subjected to blistering cold. But like all things tried up to this point, it proved only a temporary measure. Pressing their many thousands against the frozen barrier, it cracked and gave way despite the steady tonnage of ice being applied. The roaring alien nightmare quickly turned their attention to the problem, unloading salvo after salvo into the desperate mutant.

Within a few seconds, no more ice formed on the battlefield.

"Iceman pullback, pullback… Bobby? Magneto? Magneto?!" Stark could no longer hide the desperation in his voice, "-attention whoever can hear me. Jean and Charles are almost ready, but the big one from New York just came over the hill with a swarm of Zoanthropes! We have to stop them! They must plan on fighting Jean and the Professor mind to mind."

Neil fell back down into the trench and crouched on the ground. His fingers squeezing his rifle as hard as possible, his breathing erratic and rushed. Trying to drown out the noise and calamity, he tried focusing only on his next actions. _The Tyranids… the animals are sending telepathic weapons to counter Jean and Professor Xavier… how can that be? How can they understand such a concept?_

Poking his head up again, a Carnifex stampeded just two-hundred feet ahead, ripping and tearing at some men in a fortified position. John, the father whose children fought so bravely, ducked down and gathered them close. Nearby a woman lay dead, _is that his wife? Their mother?_ For Neil, time stopped, transfixed on the family beside him. John knelt in the muck, squeezing his son and daughter in each arm. Tears streamed from his eyes, his youngest burying her head under his chin. 

“Daddy,” she murmured, ”...can you beat them?” A second more, stretching the embrace as long as possible that all parents know and share. Then it was time. The father opened his eyes, bloodshot but clear of vision for the path ahead. He smiled as best he could, his chin and cheeks trembling in anguish. Planting a tender kiss on each of their foreheads, he admired his children for the last time.

"We must always hope. I love you."

Neil watched John climb up and over the wall, exploding into a wild charge towards the moving mass of alien scum. _This is it, this is the last stand. We have to give Jean enough time._ Inspired and emboldened by what he just witnessed, Neil counted to three and scrambled up and over the trenchline. Rushing headlong and firing from the hip, he screamed and roared, hissed and cursed. Catching up to the father, they charged headlong, sending burst after burst from their rifles into the cranial armor of the Carnifex. As Neil ran he felt no fear, just a wild trembling sense of purpose; this was it! _It ends here._

Neil fired until his gun clicked empty, but progress did not slow. Tossing it away and pulling his knife, he drove straight into the sea of terrible beasts. And as he made contact with his blade, fist, and boot, a voice came to him—a mix of both man and woman, a message that instantly touched every corner of the world.

**_Hello, we are Professor Charles Xavier and Jean Grey, members of the X-Men, but you may think of us as friends. We are speaking to all of you, each and every individual. To all the corners of humanity, we reach you now in our most desperate hour. Across the globe you are fighting in houses, streets, and trenches._ **

**_And you are afraid._ **

**_Afraid of what will happen to those you are fighting for. For those you love so very much._ **

**_What we ask of you will never be attempted again, as we will perish in the channeling of such energies._ **

**_We have connected ourselves to a machine that amplifies our thoughts and desires. But not just ours, all those who wish to help._ **

**_Embedded in each of you is a strength of mind and character you scarcely understand and appreciate. But we will help you. The Tyranid forces are here to destroy us, for we have touched their thoughts and felt their desires. Is it hatred, an unbridled rage for all living things. They oppose all that we are and can be._ **

**_So we ask now from each of you, that which the Tyranids do not possess._ **

**_Why is it that you fight? Before this crisis, people fought for power, money, and control. Those are simple things, and we know that each of you carries within them so much more._ **

**_We ask that you think of that reason, something so precious and dear, a cause that is private, sacred, and personal._ **

**_Is it your daughter? Is it your son? Is it your mother and father? A sister or brother? This is what makes us human, our actions when we believe all hope is lost. People of Earth, do not concentrate on agony, worry, or fear. Close your eyes and capture in your mind what it is you love about them. How do they make you feel? What are their sounds and smells? Their touch..._ **

**_...their warmth._ **

**_Who is it you will die for?_ **

**_Who is it you live for?_ **

**_Our power is only a fraction to your own, remember that._ **

Sensing the buildup, the Hive Mind which conquered and consumed a million-billion worlds since before time moved backward and forwards, hurled an unstoppable psychic force into the human telepaths. Never in its endless history had the swarm concentrated such energies into a single target, the Dominatrix Bio-Titan and 10,000 Zoanthropes the focal point and lens of such horrific destruction.

Simultaneously, in the depths of the X-Men Mansion, Jean Grey and Charles Xavier ceased to exist. Their bodies and essence sent to oblivion by the indescribable power erupting outward and into the totality of the Tyranid consciousness. There are no words to describe the potency of what was generated on this day. Only that it is humanity's strongest and purest emotion, and because of that, we will never yield.

-The End


End file.
